Family
by BlackMercifulFaerie
Summary: [Complete] Roy's family comes for a visit. Needless to say, Edward isn't exactly thrilled about it . . . especially when he finds out what Roy's been hiding from him. [RoyEd]
1. Arrival

**Hello. This story was part of my drabble collection, 'Automail'; however, I got a few reviews saying that I should have done this as its own story . . . so, that's what I'm doing. If you've already read this in 'Automail', please bear with me and review again—I would very much appreciate it!**

**And, if it's any consolation, I have the last two chapters typed up and waiting in the wings, and I will be reposting one chapter of 'Family' every other day—so that means that y'all only have to wait for . . . thirteen more days for the next chapter. Is that right? (shrugs)**

**If you haven't read this already . . . then please just review!**

**Disclaimer: I own the picture of Roy on my desktop . . . the sexy one with him standing before a sunset, looking off into the distance . . . his uniform slightly unbuttoned, revealing the toned muscles of his chest . . . (drools). Other than that . . . no.

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**Chapter I: Arrival**

"You do know that if we get out of this alive," commented Roy as his ebony eyes followed a similarly coloured car up the driveway, "I'm going to kill you, right?"

"Uh-huh," came the dry response. Edward watched the gorgeous black car come to a stop near the front steps of Mustang's estate, the flustered-looking driver hopping out and rushing around to the back to pull open the door for the passengers. "Who should I be worried about?" the blonde asked.

Never taking his eyes off of the three people exiting the vehicle, Roy answered, "If you're worried about both of our reputations in the military being destroyed, then you should watch out for my father. If you're worried about being looked down on or possibly being killed in your sleep for being in a homosexual relationship with your commanding officer . . . then, I'd say my father again. But if you're aiming to impress someone, I'd focus on my mother and sister. I'm sure that if you play your cards right, they will be easily swayed by your charm. They'll fall for you."

"You sure?" the Fullmetal asked uncertainly.

Without hesitation, Roy looked down at the profile of his young lover's face and stated, "I certainly did."

Ed's eyes widened for a moment, then softened with a small smile. "Yeah . . ." He turned and grinned up at the Flame. "With one Mustang wrapped around my little finger, the other three should be no problem."

"Edward, let us remember that it is usually _you_ who is _wrapped_ around me." He paused, giving time for the innuendo to sink in, then continued in a quiet voice, "And since when have you started referring to yourself as 'little'?"

It was a sign of just how worried the Fullmetal actually was about meeting Roy's family when he didn't explode in his typical 'who-are-you-calling' rage at the comment. Ed just huffed and looked back down as the three new Mustangs neared the bottom steps.

Roy sighed, tearing his eyes away from the comfort of Edward's face—even if it was now scowling in derision—and settling back on his approaching family.

This was going to be a long week.

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**Please review. The other chapters will be up soon, promise.**


	2. First Meeting

**Does anyone want a kitten? He's a little tortoiseshell; very cute, sweet . . . though, he doesn't like to be held a lot. We just gave his sister to the humane society, but they said that they could only take her (mostly because she was an adorable calico and they knew that she could be adopted out quickly). We don't wanna give him to the pound, cause they'll put him to sleep. (cries) Any takers? You have to be in Louisiana.**

**And _grrrrrr_ if all of you aren't so curse-ably nice and sweet about this whole thing. (sigh) To please my readers (since I love you all so much) I'm gonna put out a chapter every day. The final chappie needs to be touched up a bit, but at least I will still get it out sooner than 15 days from now as I had originally planned. Hope that makes y'all happy.**

**Oh, there's also a new one-shot in 'Automail' called 'Gift,' by the by.**

**Second chapter here. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Yes, I own them. Unfortunately, Hiromu Arakawa is taking all the credit and my money.

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**Chapter II: First Meeting**

Roy's sister was the first to reach him.

She tackled him from a good three feet away and Ed was shocked that Roy actually managed to maintain his balance. Hoisting herself up with the help of her brother's neck and wrapping her legs around his hips—Ed knew that it was his sister, but that part still somehow managed to create a small tic above his right eye—she clung to him in a parasitic hug.

"How _are_ you Roy!" she squealed against his shirtfront.

"If I tell you that I'm fine, will you let go of me?" came the annoyed response, ground out from between the gritted teeth of the elder of the two siblings.

Still grinning, his sister shook her head in a negative, then looked up at him. "It's been so long! I can't give my best older brother in the world a hug?"

Roy rolled his eyes dramatically. "Tamalynn, not only am I your _only_ older brother, but I'm your only sibling in general." He let out a weary sigh, then opened his eyes and smiled down at her. "But, yes . . . I _did_ miss you."

This earned a grin from the human leech. "I missed you too, Ray-Ray," she chirped happily.

Ed snorted.

"Ray-Ray?" he choked out past a laugh. His lover threw him a sideways glare that clearly stated 'Zip it!' and the Fullmetal promptly bit down on his lower lip to stifle the palpable mirth that was now rumbling in the back of his throat.

Tamalynn turned her head to get a better look at Edward, a mix of confusion and intrigue in her wide eyes. "Who are you?" she asked quietly, sliding off of her older brother and moving over to stand before the blonde. Now that she wasn't clinging to Roy, and Edward could get a good look at her, he began to notice the undeniably strong family resemblance.

The girl was only a few years older than Ed—twenty or twenty-one, at the most—but she possessed that damnable Mustang height and . . . and _whatever_ _else_ it was that made the two siblings appear much older than they actually were. Roy himself was only twenty-nine, but he had the air of someone years older.

This also, apparently, held true for Tamalynn.

She tilted her head to one side, her long, inky black locks cascading over her right shoulder, studying the blonde boy with critical onyx eyes. Ed blinked, the chuckle that had been desperate to escape his mouth now lying down and dying in his throat. He grinned nervously. "My name's Edward. We . . . spoke on the phone."

At this, Tamalynn's eyes widened. "E-edward? But . . . but you . . ." She trailed off and glanced over at Roy. "But he's . . ."

Roy let his eyes flutter shut and he nodded slowly; Ed's golden eyes narrowed into angry slits, glaring between the two of them. "What? I'm what?"

Tamalynn looked back at him, her mouth twitching upwards in a nervous grin. "I just expected you to be older is all," she stated with a one-shouldered shrug.

Ed twitched.

And Roy smirked. "Edward is seventeen, Tamalynn." The ebony-haired man opened his eyes again to chance a glance at his parents; they were now ascending the stairs after their daughter, but were still far enough off to deem this a safe conversation.

The young woman's eyes snapped back to her brother. "Seventeen?" She seemed to contemplate this for a few seconds, then sighed wearily and stated with obvious censure, "That's _still_ a bit young, Roy . . . but . . . I guess not _quite_ as bad as what I was thinking." She then turned back to Edward with a sheepish grin. "Sorry. I thought you were much younger than that. It's just that you're so cute and sh—"

There was a clap, a flash of blue light and the familiar fizzle of alchemic energy as Ed's automail was transformed into a blade. He held out it threateningly, a dull gleam of enmity glazing over his eyes. "Just give me a reason, sweetheart," he said through gritted teeth in a faux-sweet voice.

"Easy Ed," Roy said in an attempt to soothe his now hostile lover. He reached over and placed an admonitional hand on his right arm and lowered it back to the blonde's side. "She didn't know."

Edward grumbled, but allowed Roy to push his arm down. The colonel sighed and turned back to Tamalynn, still not releasing his lover's automail limb. Her black eyebrow quirked in time with the corner of her mouth and she asked, "I take it he doesn't like to be called S-H-O-R-T?"

The young woman actually spelled out the last word and Ed's nerves stood on end. "I'm not a little kid or a goddamn animal! I _know_ how to spell! AND DON'T CALL ME SHORT!" he screeched, causing Tamalynn to take a small, cautionary step backwards.

Roy smirked in good humour. "He _detests_ it."

"I can tell," stated the dark-haired girl.

Edward huffed and, transforming his automail back to normal, crossed his arms across his narrow chest. He wasn't exactly thrilled that Roy and co. were talking about him as though he were a child and, in an effort to show his displease, he—not entirely oblivious to the irony in his action—pouted. His lover chuckled quietly at this and the Fullmetal shot him a castrating glare, clearly meaning: "Oh, you'll pay for this later, my dear."

Ed then spared a moment to glower at Tamalynn, who was now looking back and forth between the two lovers, a _Mona Lisa_-esque smile playing on her lips. Though he hated to admit it, the blonde alchemist felt a tiny bubble of something less than odium growing in his chest—give it enough time and it might actually grow into fondness. There was just something about her.

Maybe it was just because she was a Mustang.

The blonde just sighed and rolled his eyes, the memory of when the two of them had first spoken, only days earlier, drifting into his mind like a phantom.

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_The phone was ringing._

_Normally, Ed would just let Roy answer it—owing to the fact that it was his house and, though they had been dating for several months, their relationship was meant to be a secret to anyone and everyone outside of Mustang's regiment; it would look highly suspicious to those not in the know if Edward were to periodically answer the phone at Roy's estate—but, at the moment, the man was in the shower. The blonde tried to ignore it, but the damn thing was sitting right next to the library couch that he had chosen as his reading perch, screeching like a newborn infant, and it soon became too annoying to bear._

"_Hello?" he greeted into the mouthpiece, disgruntled but tentative._

_There was a short silence, before: "Hi, this is Tamalynn. Is Roy there?"_

_A woman._

_A woman that obviously wasn't in Roy's contingent and one that Edward was sure he didn't know. A streak of worried jealousy shot up his spine and he was sure that his growl was audible. Was this why Roy didn't let him answer the phones? Because he was stepping out on him and he didn't want the blonde to know?_

The bastard!

_Ed scowled at the mouthpiece and answered in a huff, "Sorry. Roy's in the shower. Can I take a message?"_

_There was a pause, and Edward was sure he could feel the indignation seeping through the earpiece. "I . . . actually just wanted to speak to _him_. Are you one of the servants?"_

_Though he was a bit put off by the haughty sound of money jingling in the woman's voice, the blonde alchemist couldn't help but laugh out loud at the question. "Well, he's never called me that before . . . I'm Edward. One of his subordinates."_

"_Oh . . ." Another short pause. Then: "Don't you think that you're being a bit disrespectful?"_

_The Fullmetal blinked a few times. _"_Huh?"_

"_You just called your commanding officer 'Roy'."_

_Ed was incredulous. "So did you!" he nearly shouted._

_There was a huff from the woman on the other end of the line. "_I_ am allowed."_

_At that moment, Ed forgot all about secrecy. He forgot that Roy's mission to become Fuhrer and make the country a better place hinged on him being able to _stay _in the military, which, in turn, hinged on there being a need-to-know basis when it came to their relationship. The fact that, if someone highly important—such as Hakuro or Bradley or even Archer—were to find out about them, then the two alchemists would most likely be dishonourably discharged from the military and Roy would probably be thrown in prison for having sex with a minor, completely slipped his mind._

_The only thing tangible at that point was the little voice that was whispering short, staccato morphemes in his ear ('_Kill. Maim. Good. Kill. Bitch._') and he was vaguely wondering if it was possible to transmute someone into something over the phone._

_All of this combined together made a very effective luge between logical and illogical and, before he could stop himself, Ed found himself screeching into the phone, "So am I; I'm his boyfriend!"_

_If silence was audible and not merely the _lack_ of sound, there would have been quite a row going on over at the other end of the line. The blonde smirked at his victory over the stunned woman and said, "That's right, his _boyfriend_. So don't call back here again you hussy!"_

_And with that he slammed the phone down._

_Roy emerged from the shower not long after that, black hair still dripping, the collar of his white shirt now sufficiently damp. "Ed, did Madalay pick up the phone?" he asked._

"_What? No 'Hi, babe, you look sexy sitting there reading that book.'?" Edward stated without looking up at the man, no mirth in his voice._

_There was a short quiet. Then Roy sighed and, Ed assumed, rolled his eyes, before: "Hi sexy book."_

_The blonde turned and spun his eyes up to Mustang's face, his brows furrowing in uncertainty. The Flame was smirking down at him, his wet bangs pushed back and molded with the rest of his hair, giving him and older, almost dignified look._

_Ed's annoyance with him flitted away for a quick second and desire snuck in to take its place. "What?" he managed to get out without his voice cracking._

"_I just figured if I left out a few of the other words, I'd get through it faster, but still get the point across."_

_Said desire vanished._

_The Fullmetal turned back to his text in irritation. "Well, it didn't. And no, Madalay did not answer the phone. I did."_

_Surprisingly enough, Mustang did not (as Ed had expected) fidget or squirm with guilt. Instead, he just _hm_ed and asked, "Well, who was it and what did you say?"_

_The golden-haired teen huffed and stated, "You know, you don't have to monitor me. I _do_ behave myself when you're not around."_

_The colonel made a sound of dry skepticism. "And I have stacks of your reports that prove otherwise, Fullmetal. Now, who was it on the phone?"_

_Ed, still not looking up from his book, but no longer actually reading it, grinned and replied, "Just one of your old . . . er, 'acquaintances'. I put her in her place."_

"_What did you say to her?"_

_Edward glanced up at the man, smirking. "Just that _we_ were seeing each other now, so there was no need for anyone like her."_

_Roy's mouth dropped open. "Ed . . ." he muttered, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You _do_ remember that _we—_" He paused to languidly point back and forth between the two of them, "—are supposed to be a secret, right?"_

"_Mm-hm. I just got carried away I guess. I wanted to put that bitch in her place."_

_The colonel sighed, then said, "That's my Ed. So, did she leave her name?"_

"_Why do you wanna know?" Edward asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You _are_ dating me, remember?"_

_Roy smiled. "Yes, Edward, I know. Just indulge my curiosity, will you?"_

_The corners of Ed's mouth turned downwards slightly, either in displease or concentration or maybe both, and he said slowly, "I . . . think it was . . . Tammie or Tamara . . . no, Tamalynn! That was it! Tamalynn. So, who was . . . she . . .? Roy?"_

_Ed stopped. _

_His lover had turned a worrisome shade of white, becoming even paler now that he normally was, and his black eyes had glossed over. Ed, feeling panic start to grip him, dropped his book and stood up to face the colonel. "Roy, honey, what's wrong?"_

"_T-tama . . . Tamalynn? You said Tamalynn?"_

_Ed nodded mutely._

_There was silence . . . and then . . ._

"Aagh_! That was my sister! Now, she's probably going to go tell my parents and they're gonna find out that I'm gay and . . . and . . . ah, SHIT!"_

_All Edward could do was stare; then, a nervous laugh and, "Um . . . oops?"

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Roy had, needless to say, quickly called Tamalynn back and tried to smooth things over; however, things hadn't turned out quite as he's planned. Though she had agreed not to tell their mother and father that he was now living with (and, more importantly, sleeping with) another man, she had also made it clear that the family was going to come over for a visit . . .

So that Roy himself could inform his parents of his alternative lifestyle.

The colonel had hung up the phone and then informed Edward that he would soon die a slow, horrible, deathy death of fire and alchemic brimstone—the dark-haired man had then also vocally contemplated killing his sister and parents . . . and then maybe himself, for good measure.

Though Ed had hesitantly agreed that he probably _should_ be killed for the big, stupid mistake that he had made with his big, stupid mouth (though, in the same breath, he had also reminded Roy that his big mouth _did_ make the older man _very_ happy at certain times), he hadtalked the colonel out of committing Mustang genocide.

Now however, as he watched Roy's father approach the younger trio, Ed suddenly wished that he hadn't.

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**Done. There was a big, _glaring_ mistake in this that, I'm surprised, no one caught before. I fixed it, but if y'all can figure out what it was, I'll give you a cookie . . . and maybe a lemon.**

**Just a little one, though.**

**Reviewer worship:**

**In True Meanings: **Yep, I moved it! Thanks for the review! And thank you for your review for 'The Talk' chapter, when this was still posted in 'Automail'. That's always good to hear!

**imyourvillian:** Thank you! You're so sweet! It takes a lot to fall out of my good graces, though—I don't think you're in any danger of doing that.

(laughs) You really _don't_ have a life. I hope that the shortened time span makes you happy!

Oh, by the by, last review you told me to check out a really good RoyEd fic, but you didn't leave the title, silly! Could you give that next review? Thanks!

See you next time!

**Different Child:** (makes a sad sound) I'm sorry you're sick. Hope you feel better soon. Thanks for the review!

**BlackFire-Dog:** Yep, I did. Let's see . . . there was you, Buried Fairy Tale, and . . . um . . . (looks at reviews) Well, actually that's it. I could have sworn that there were more. There were a lot of people _afterwards_ who said that it was a good idea, but just you two told me beforehand . . . I could have sworn that there were at least three . . .

(shrugs) Oh, well . . . Thanks for the review! And for the one before, when this was still posted in 'Automail'.

**Sakuranbo Nayamu: **Dammit, your name was hard to spell! Did I get it right?

(laughs) It was six before. I wasn't done yet, but decided to move it before I updated any further. Two more chapters will be added on . . . maybe more if the feeling strikes me. But definitely two.

Thanks for the review!

**mmmslash: **(blink, blink; tilts head) Hey! I know you! You're on my favourite authors list—your RoyEd stuff is fantastic! (gasp) I feel so honoured! Thanks for the review. Coming from you, it means a lot.

**Midori-Jester:** Thank you!

**Jai: **(laughs) Hope the new update times help. Thanks for the review! And thanks for your review for the sixth part while it was still part of 'Automail'.

**Pickles: **(giggles) Thanks!

**Buried Fairy Tale: **(laughs) Truthfully, I like writing angst—it's fun. But, with this story, all of that basically just wrote itself. All that Hughes stuff wasn't in there until my fingers sorta wrote it in and I was like: "Hey, that's good!"

So . . . (shrugs) don't expect too much . . . but maybe a little . . . (wink)

Thanks for the review! And thank you for your other review while it was still part of 'Automail'. I'm sorry to her that your sister was in a wreck. Is she all right?

**Sakura-Chan:** (laughs) Yes, it did! And I'm sorry! The new chappie will be here in about a week! Thanks for the review!

**Dorayaki:** Thank you!

**inuyashabooklover5188:** (laughs) Thank you!

**littlefiction:** Thanks! And thank you for your last review while this was still in 'Automail'!


	3. Games

**I'm tired and have nothing to say. Let's get to this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: My new favourite quote? "Mass genocide is the most tiring activity that one can participate in . . . next to soccer." Said by Loki from _Dogma_. What does it have to do with anything? Diddley. I just thought that he and Bartleby were very cute. Coincidentally, that's another adorable blonde and brunette pair that I don't own.

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**Chapter III: Games**

Just from looking at him, Ed could tell right off the bat that the eldest Mustang, much like his son, was not someone whose bad side you wanted to get on. The inherent black hair of both his moustache and head was streaked with steel grey and his cobalt eyes were boring into the young colonel. Though he was not large and strong in the same sense as Sig Curtis or Major Armstrong, his blue military uniform still stretched tight across his chest and shoulders and—though he was only a scant inch or so taller than his son—he still managed to somehow tower above the alchemist. He exuded strength, breeding, wit, and pomposity.

And that damn gold bar and single gold star on the man's shoulder did nothing to soothe the tumult in Ed's mind. Dammit if he wasn't two ranks higher than Roy— a major general.

It took everything the blonde had not to drop dead on the spot.

The idea that he, Edward Elric, should have to walk up to this guy and say: "Hey, nice to meet you. You have a beautiful family—especially your son, who, by the way, I happen to live with and screw on occasion," was absurd. Laughable.

Well, maybe not _laughable_ per se . . .

After all, being strangled with your own intestines was probably not a very humourous experience.

As his father came to a stop before him, Roy straightened his back and brought his right hand up in a salute. "Major General," he greeted starkly. Ed saw the man's blue eyes flash as he examined his son, as if he was looking for any flaw or imperfection to criticize.

A slight movement just past the Major General's thick shoulder suddenly drew Ed's attention. Glancing away from the decidedly tense father-son reunion, he caught sight of a petite, slender woman with black hair and eyes. The blonde knew that she could only be Roy's mother.

The eldest Mustang eventually gave a reciprocal greeting salute and a gruff response of, "Colonel. At ease," drawing Ed's attention back to him. The man's voice was deep and hollow—much like Roy's, except only with a more gravelly edge to it, as if he smoked habitually. As the son lowered his arm and relaxed his stance, the father's blue eyes made their way past his two children, to the red-cloaked teen that was Edward Elric. "And who might you be?" he asked, said eyes narrowing.

Ed visibly flinched as all eyes turned to him and he swallowed hard before opening his mouth to respond. Unfortunately a choked "_aichh_" was all he could manage as his throat closed up, and the Major General quirked a bushy black eyebrow.

Roy sighed and took over for his suddenly reticent lover. "This, Major General, is Major Edward Elric. One of my subordinates."

Now, both eyebrows shot up in surprise. "How old is he?" he asked immediately. At this question, the fearful breath that Edward had been holding was forcefully and indignantly expelled through his nose in a bovid-like snort.

"Seventeen," Roy informed for the second time that day. This answer, of course, earned a contemptuous chuff from the Major General.

"They'll let _anyone_ into the military nowadays, I take it."

Despite the fact that Ed somehow managed to go from white to red to purple in a matter of a few seconds and began to stutter stupidly in his anger, the colonel didn't bat an eyelash. "Actually, you've probably heard of him. The Fullmetal Alchemist?"

There was a short pause while the older man apparently dug through his memory. "Ah, yes—The Fullmetal. I _have_ heard of you," he stated, turning back to Edward. The blonde scowled, not liking how very blasé the Major General sounded about the whole thing. "You're the youngest person ever to be certified as a State Alchemist. At the age of twelve, I believe?"

Ed's voice, which only moments ago had unceremoniously dropped him like a newborn calf and then rushed off, suddenly returned. "That's right . . ." And then, begrudgingly, "Sir."

"This is a family affair, Major Elric," the older man informed the blonde alchemist, tucking his thumbs into the lapel of his uniform and drawing himself up to his fullest, most intimidating height. "May I ask what you are doing here?"

Ed felt the onyx orbs of Tamalynn swivel back to him and he gulped quietly. "Actually . . ." he began slowly, speaking in a quiet tone throughout the entirety of his explanation. "A childhood friend of mine just got into town. She's from my hometown of Resembool, which is quite a ways off, so she's going to be staying for a couple of weeks to visit. She and my brother have always had a . . . er, _special_ connection. I figured that they'd want to be left alone for most of her visit. After he found out, Colonel Mustang offered to put me up at his place—" At his title, Ed motioned to Roy, who was now staring at the blonde in open-mouthed shock at the bold-faced audacity of his lie.

The Fullmetal was not merely holidaying at the Mustang estate for a couple of weeks—he had been there for over two months now and would (God willing) be staying there until the day he died; which meant that the Elric brothers were _not_, as Ed had just implied, sharing housing. Truth be told, Al wasn't even in Central anymore, let alone the Rockbell girl. The only part of Edward's faux elucidation that held true was the fact that Alphonse and Winry had a thing for each other—though most people who knew the pair had supposed this, their assumptions had been proven correct after the youngest Elric had gotten his body back.

Al was now back in his hometown, living with his new fiancée.

Edward gave Roy a pointed look and the dark-haired man promptly re-shut his mouth. "—since he has so much room, and all," the blonde teen finished.

Tamalynn's eyes flickered over to her sibling and she commented with wry amusement, "How kind of you, dear brother."

The colonel cleared his throat loudly, choosing to ignore the accusatory tone of his younger sister's remark, and stated in his dull voice, "Needless to say, Fullmetal accepted."

The Major General harrumphed, then brushed past the two state alchemists to enter the expansive Mustang abode. "Come, Tamalynn."

"Yessir," said the dark-haired girl and then followed after her father, pausing only long enough to whisper so only The Flame and Fullmetal could hear, "If you two don't grow some balls and tell them by the end of the week, then I will."

"You'll grow balls?" Roy asked quietly, a smirk playing on his lips.

Tamalynn punched him in his arm. "I _mean_ it," she hissed, then stalked off.

Edward smiled, watching her retreating back until she disappeared down a hallway that forked off of the foyer; he then turned his attention back to the one remaining person on the front steps besides his lover and himself.

Roy gave his mother a hug—it was a quick, uneventful hug, but it was still a much more prominent show of affection than the cold salute to his father had been—she kissed him loudly on his cheek, and then the two of them separated. He glanced over at Ed, a light lipstick stain on his left cheek and something unreadable in his dark eyes, and introduced them. "Edward Elric, this is Mai Yao Mustang. My mother."

Ed blinked. "Mai . . . Yao?" he muttered dumbly, sticking out his hand to accept the petite one that was already being extended in a polite show of greeting. "Your mom is from . . ."

_Xing._

The world went _sput_.

Now that he looked at the woman—_really_ looked at her without the Major General standing there, glaring at the young major like he wanted to crush him—Edward could see that she was, indeed, a foreigner.

Despite the fact that the blonde was fervently homosexual (though, ironically, he never really thought of himself as such, even though he was dating Roy and Roy was a male . . . _and_ _how_) he couldn't help but appreciate the delicate, gentile attractiveness of his lover's mother. Maybe it was just because she _looked_ so much like a certain bastard colonel that Ed knew . . .

At least he now knew which parent Roy favoured in appearance.

Much like her husband, Mai Yao Mustang's black hair, pulled up and away from her face in a tight bun, was streaked with grey—though, unlike the Major General's, hers' did more to add dignification and refinement to her features than it made her look older. Her pale skin, though creased slightly around her eyes and the corners of her mouth, was undoubtedly smooth and flawless.

Her black eyes were naturally narrowed and heavily-lidded—much like Roy's—and she was gazing at the blonde with an expression that made Ed feel almost sheepish.

"Mother, this is Major Edward Elric," Roy continued as if Ed hadn't said anything. "The Fullmetal Alchemist."

"Oh, yes, I heard Gerald talking about him," she stated quietly as she retracted her hand from Edward's. The accent in her small voice was faint . . . but still present. She turned her attention back to Ed and said, "It's nice to meet you, Major Elric."

For some reason, Edward felt his cheeks flush as he flashed her his trademark Elric grin and reached up to scratch at the base of his braid absently. "Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Mustang."

The woman smiled. And Roy smirked—a smirk which was clearly supposed to say, "I thought that 'Mrs. Mustang' was your name?"

Ed ignored him, deciding that a smart remark at this point for nothing more than an unspoken, implied innuendo was not what they needed. "We had better get inside," he suggested instead, rubbing his hands up and down his biceps. "It's getting kinda chilly."

"I agree," stated Roy as he placed a gentle, guiding hand on his mother's back and steered her towards the door. "I'll get Ronald and Arthur to bring your bags up to your rooms."

As Edward watched the two of them enter the house and take the same path as Tamalynn and the Major General, he sighed quietly and let his eyelids droop.

Major General Gerald; Mai Yao; Tamalynn; and last, but by no means least, Colonel Roy. One whole week in the same house with four wild Mustangs—three of which he needed desperately to impress; at least one of those three that he wanted to _avoid_ for all his life was worth; and one final bucking stallion that he suddenly wished to have ridden one last time before he inevitably perished at the hands of the Major General.

_One week._

Ed sighed once more, then grinned and entered the house. _Let the games begin . . .

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_

**That's it. Hope y'all enjoyed . . . again, for some of you.**

**Reviewer responses:**

**Vampirina08:** Thanks!

**Aemi-Kaishima:** (laughs) Well, I'm glad that you're super-duper happy! Thanks for the review!

**BlackFire-Dog:** Yes, I actually read and respond to every review, no matter how short or strange it is. (laughs) Did you figure out the mistake that I made and then fixed? That's the only way you'll get a lemon . . . well, actually I've already written it, so it's not the _only_ way. Other than that, you'll have to ask me really nicely.

Thanks for the review!

**Q-tip:** Thank you!

**Different Child:** Thanks for the review! I'm glad that you somehow managed to drag your disease-infested carcass over to your computer to read and review my story. (laughs) Just kidding! I know being sick sucks major ass and that reading fanfics is one surefire way to get better faster.

I don't know why doctors don't hand _that_ out as a prescription . . . Hope you feel better soon, hon!

**J-chan Hagane No Chibisan** Thanks! Glad you liked—I liked writing it!

**In True Meanings:** Thank you!

**Hm. That was a pretty pitiful amount of reviews . . . I think I might pull back on the updates. Like, I post a new chapter whenever the mood strikes me . . . That sounds like fun.**

**Though I doubt y'all would like it . . . If y'all even read this far.**

**(sigh) Bye! Next chapter will be up whenever I'm done writing it (i.e.: it's new!)**


	4. Dinner

**Did you guys think that this was 'Chess'? If you didn't read the little author's note at the bottom of last chapter, then ha! I fooled you! This chappie is _new_. It's probably completely pointless . . . but who cares, really? It's Ed getting hit and falling prey to sexual innuendos. _That_ said, let's wait no longer!**

**Here's chapter four!**

**Disclaimer: I . . . have run out of cute things to say, actually. Which simply leaves the fact that I don't own it.

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**Chapter IV: Dinner**

Monday night supper arrived amid much pomp and circumstance, dressed up with parsley or kale and steaming on large silver platters. The two cooks that Ed loved, but could never seem to find when he wanted a snack, made multiple trips to and from the kitchen, laying down a tray of country fried potatoes or roast pork or a bowl of thick, brown gravy and then heading back for more.

It seemed like far too much food for only five people—but anyone who knew of Edward Elric and his monstrous appetite realized just _why_ the chefs had prepared a feast that was usually reserved for large parties, weddings, sacrificial offerings to Pagan gods, Bar Mitzvahs, and the like.

A platter of honey-glazed, spiral-cut ham was placed before him and—in much the same way that Pavlov got the salivary reaction from his famed canine companion—the clatter of the metal against the table, coupled with the heavenly aroma wafting off of the meat, made Ed drool. He was famished and the thin, almost insipid soup that the family et al had consumed before the actual meal had arrived had done little to sate his hunger.

Licking his dry lips in want, the blonde stretched out his hand to retrieve a slice of perfectly cooked ham . . . and was quickly rewarded with the painful tap of a metal knife handle against his knuckles, courtesy of the Major General.

"Yow!" Edward screeched as he yanked his hand back and cradled it near his chest. Glaring daggers at the man, the Fullmetal asked heatedly, "What the hell was that for?" Fiery blue orbs swiveled up to his face and Ed's constitution faltered at tad. "S-sir," he added as a shaky afterthought.

The Major General scowled and stated gruffly, "No one at this table will eat until all of the food has been presented and we say grace."

Edward frowned and put a hand to his stomach as it rumbled unhappily. "But I'm hungry _now_," he muttered to no one in particular.

Bushy eyebrows rose in admonishment and the eldest Mustang held up his butter knife once more. "Do you want the knife again?" he questioned in a rather condescending voice.

Ed, being vehemently opposed to getting hit with a knife handle once more, quickly shook his head, causing his blonde bangs to fly about haphazardly, and tucked his hands down into his lap. The Major General nodded at him brusquely, then turned away to watch as Rufus—the shorter, portlier, and paler of Roy's two chefs—cleared a place for a tin of candied yams. Taking advantage of the man's inattention, the Fullmetal glanced across the table at his lover and lifted an angry eyebrow.

'_What the hell?'_

Roy, who seemed to find the whole thing extremely entertaining, hid his amused smirk behind his hand and tried to make his eyes look sympathetic.

'_I'm . . . sorry? Don't try to take the ham next time.'_

Ed scowled deeply and made a small noise of displease in the back of his throat, drawing the attention of Tamalynn. She watched in a mix of dull amusement and mild consternation as her brother and his boyfriend silently argued back and forth across the table. _'Maybe if _someone _would have given me some sort of warning that he was a hitter, I wouldn't have sat next to him!'_

On Roy's part, there was a theatric spin of black eyes and a pursing of lips. _'He's a prick, Ed. Just ignore him.'_

Edward made a sour face. _'How can I ignore him? Not only is he sitting right next to me, but I have to spend a whole week with him! You give it a try!'_

The colonel rolled his eyes once again. Though he wasn't sure that that was _exactly_ what Ed had thought, he knew that it was pretty close. Over the course of their relationship together—not only as lovers, but also as subordinate and commander, fellow alchemists, and friends—he and the blonde had gotten pretty good at talking without having to actually talk.

Subliminal communication.

He moved his elbow out of the way as a woven basket, filled to the brim with fluffy, buttered rolls, was placed on the table by Fosco—his other chef. And with that, the two men bowed in farewell and retreated back into the kitchen. Ed hoped that they had gone off to start on dessert—with any luck, it would be that lemon meringue pie that he was so fond of.

"Very good," the Major General commented, eyeing the feast approvingly. "Those two haven't lost their touch. Still know how to make a meal fit for a king."

The fact that the eldest Mustang had probably been referring to himself when he made this remark did not slip past the two alchemists; Ed very subtly rolled his golden eyes at the irony of the statement and Roy had the good sense not to look _too_ smug. The Major General probably knew nothing of his son's ambitions to become fuhrer, owing to the fact that he was a higher ranking officer and he would, like many of the _other_ higher ranking officers, most likely see it as an act of treason.

For that reason, Edward guessed that his lover hadn't told his father of his goal.

"Yes," Roy concurred languidly, a coy smirk playing on his lips. "They certainly do."

There was a moment of silence around the table, before Tamalynn finally spoke. "So, we just gonna sit here all night looking at it? Let's say grace and tuck in."

Ed's stomach not-so-silently agreed with this and he nodded his assent.

The Major General huffed, folding his hands before him with an apathetic grace that a man of his size shouldn't possess, and turned his head to look down at the blonde seated next to him. "Would you care to lead us in the prayer, Major Elric?"

_Prayer?_

Stuck somewhere between looking sheepish and scandalized, Ed silently opened and closed his mouth several times, before finally stammering out, "I-I . . . I'm not . . . I mean, I don't know any . . ."

"Fullmetal is an atheist," Roy concluded for him, watching as his father twitched slightly at the last word. "He doesn't know any prayers, so don't force him to try and recite one."

The older man harrumphed and looked back at Ed. "That true?"

The blonde spared his lover a sarcastically thankful glance, before he turned back to the Major General. "Yessir," he stated in a clipped voice; he would have preferred to say, 'Yeah; what of it, you shithead?' . . . but that probably would have gotten him killed.

He wanted to impress the man, not get his face pounded in for insulting him.

The Major General clicked his tongue disapprovingly, a look of disdain settling over his features and sinking deep into his cobalt eyes; he then turned away from Ed to his daughter and said, "Tamalynn, do you mind saying grace since Major Elric seems to be so hopelessly inept?"

The Fullmetal glowered at the back of the man's head.

Sighing, the dark-haired girl let her gaze linger on Edward for a short moment of pity, and then snapped back to her father. "No problem, sir."

* * *

Dinner progressed smoothly—well, as smoothly as one could expect when there was an obscure, yet unintentional presentation of the true love's final five gifts of the twelve days of Christmas going on at Roy's table: 

Five hungry people; four Mustangs; three Amestris officers; two alchemists; and Ed, stuck next to the Major General, with a pear tree shoved up his ass.

Though, the blonde had to admit—and it was a small, _microscopic_ acknowledgement at that—that the man wasn't a complete and utter asshole when he got sufficiently liquored up. He was actually almost pleasant.

Almost.

Edward politely chuckled at a dumb joke that the eldest Mustang had cracked and then reached over to retrieve a bowl of mashed potatoes that he had been eyeing. However, tipsy though the Major General may be, he still apparently didn't approve of the blonde reaching across the table to get something. Picking up his knife, he ever-so-gently popped Ed across his knuckles once again.

Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how badly you want to keep secrets—it had been Ed's right hand that he had hit this time. The harsh, melodic _ping_ of metal against metal rang out through the quiet dining room.

Mai Yao and Tamalynn stared; Major General Gerald Mustang arched a curious eyebrow; and Roy nonchalantly lifted his glass and took another sip of his wine. Ed, undeterred by this development, silently fetched the bowl and brought it back to sit next to him, all the while staring out the corner of his golden eye at the Major General.

"Automail?" the man asked as Ed scooped out a dollop of whipped potatoes and dropped it unceremoniously onto his plate.

"Yeah . . . my arm and left leg," the blonde replied, patting his knee for emphasis.

The Major General wiped his mouth with his napkin and turned in his seat to face the young alchemist. "I've always wondered why Bradley would give such a harsh name to a child." Roy noticed Ed's right eye twitch, but the teen held his composure. "How did you lose your limbs?" he asked coolly.

Edward turned back to his plate and, picking up his fork, began to shovel his newly-acquired potatoes into his mouth as he simultaneously spewed out the faux explanation of how he and his two appendages had parted company. "In the rebellion. My brother and I got into some trouble—there was a skirmish and I went to protect him and . . . well, you know the rest. That friend who's visiting right now is also an automail engineer—she got me fixed up."

Instead of the sympathetic look and pitying apology that the Fullmetal had come to expect from this story, the Major General made an unpleased sound in the back of his thick throat and looked over at his son. "He has no manners, does he?" Ed blinked and confusedly looked up at the man, mouth still loaded with food, cheeks puckered out like a chipmunk. "Carrying on a conversation with his mouth full of food."

Edward scowled and harrumphed, not caring if the eldest Mustang heard him, then swallowed and turned back to continue working on his plate. Roy chuckled and inclined his head in a small nod. "Yes . . . I tell him all the time not to speak with a full mouth . . . but he never listens."

Fork halfway to his open mouth, Ed froze and glanced up at his lover. Roy very subtly winked at him.

And Ed fell out of his chair.

* * *

**Gah! The people in the apartment above me are having sex . . . yuck! And my eardrums are killing me, so I can only listen to my music so loud—oh, what to do, what to do?**

**. . . I'll get the hose!**

**Oh, and I don't exactly remember how Ed usually explains his automail to other people who don't know about the whole human transmutation thing. I think it went something like the above . . . but I'm not positive.**

**See y'all later! Hope this new chappie entertained!**

**Reviewer worship time:**

**Different Child:** (laughs) Glad you're feeling better. Hope this new chappie helps to speed the recovery process! Thanks for the review!

**inuyashabooklover5188:** (laughs) Sorry this wasn't the lemon. I originally had that planned for the seventh chapter, but I'll be adding in all kinds of stuff, so I don't know exactly where it'll be now—later, though. (makes a sad face) Sorry.

Thanks for the review! I liked her name, too—does it sound Xing-ish?

**Buried Fairy Tale: **Thanks for the two reviews! Glad to hear you're sister is all right and hope you liked the new chapter!

**kerlih:** Hm . . . I use the online dictionary. I wanted a synonym for 'silent' or 'untalkative' . . . and 'reticent' was one of them. 'Reluctant; unwilling' is one definition, so I'll just go with that. Thanks for the input.

Yes, Roy's dad is very scary. I hate him, but like him all at the same time, simply because he is a good antagonist and those are hard to write.

(laughs) I'm glad that you enjoy all of the sexual banter that goes on—I enjoy writing it! Did you catch the one at the end of this chappie?

Thanks for the review!

**BlackFire-Dog:** (laughs) Count yourself lucky—I was gonna put 'pointless' instead of 'strange', but I changed my mind at the last second as to not incite the wrath of my reviewers.

(blink, blink) O . . . kay. (slowly backs away) You _are_ ever so slightly touched in the head, as you say. (laughs) Though, I thank you for the review!

**dragon shadows: **Thank you for the three reviews! Oh, and for the one that you left for 'Sympathy' on fictionpress; Nana and I both appreciate that.

(laughs) I've basically already written the lemon out (in my head, at least), so yes, y'all will still get it. Coincidentally, the mistake was made over the course of two chapters. In one chapter, I said that anyone finding out about Roy and Ed's relationship would be a risk to Ed's goal of finding the Philosopher's stone . . . and the next chapter, I explained that Al had his body back—thus nullifying the former point.

I know: I'm crazy for actually figuring something like that out, but it was a big deal to me. I was actually standing in my living room when I realized it and I literally gasped out loud—my roommate thought that I was dying. (laughs)

Hope that all helped. But, yes, you will get your lemon!

Your dog sounds cute! What breed is she and how do you pronounce her name? Is she a dingo? . . . I had an Australian shepherd named Dingo, actually . . . But, yes, I can see why you couldn't take Mardi (the kitten).

It's okay that I haven't gotten as many reviews—I have 35 right now, so that basically breaks down to about 11 a chapter . . . so that's still good. And when people figure out that I'm haphazardly throwing in new chapters, they'll start sticking around! (laughs)

Well, this response has reached a rather frightening length, so I'll just conclude with: thanks for the reviews! Nice talking to you!

**Midori-Jester: **(laughs) Actually, you'll find out later that Roy was actually named after _two_ cars. Interesting, ne?

Thanks for the two reviews!

**sexy pancake: **Have I ever told you how much I love your name? No? Well, I do! (laughs)

Thank you for the two re-reviews! (laughs) Tamalynn was just _really_ excited to see her brother. She hadn't actually seen him since he left for war. I only mention this to you because I'm not sure if I'll get around to it in the story . . . (shrugs)

I don't think _anyone_ likes him. He's a good antagonist and that's why I like his character so much . . . but he's still a prick. I'm glad everyone likes his mom so much, though! And yes—Roy _definitely_ got his looks from her. It always bothered me how he had that perpetually bored look on his face . . .

Now, it makes sense . . . to me, at least.


	5. Chess

**I almost died! _Again!_ Also this time in my car! But this time, it wasn't my fault! Some drunk guy swerved into my lane and I had to slam on my brakes to keep him from hitting me! Argh! God doesn't like me very much this month . . . or maybe He likes me a lot.**

**If He didn't like me, well then . . . I'd be dead.**

**(For those of you who don't know, I got into a wreck about a week ago—my fault that time. No one and nothing hurt, except my purse and pride.)**

**Disclaimer: Is it possible that I _do_ own them . . . and that I've just forgotten that I do? No? Didn't think so either . . .

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**Chapter V: Chess**

The white knight was mocking him.

It was staring up at him with that stupid grin perpetually engraved on its plastic, horsy façade, laughing at him, saying to him in a whinnying voice, "I'm going to take your queen and there's nothing you can do about it. Nyah, nyah, nyah!"

Well, Ed wasn't going to stand for that! No, sir. He was gonna transmute that little booger into a pile of plastic goo—basic alchemy, but still effective against miniature, white horse statues if he did say so himself.

"It's your move, Major Elric."

"I know, sir," Edward grumpily replied to the Major General. "I'm . . . _contemplating_."

"Hm . . ." was the only response to this.

* * *

Roy watched from his seat at the now cleared dining room table with amusement as his lover thought hard over his next move. From what he could see, Ed really was screwed. Only one move remained and that was sacrificing his queen to stay out of check—a move which Ed, Roy knew, wasn't going to make without putting up a fight. The fact that the Major General already had a large pile of Ed's black players accumulated near his right elbow only appeared to be inciting more hostility in the youth and Ed wasn't about to sacrifice his best piece. 

_Screwed._

Also, the fact that Edward wasn't particularly skilled at chess—or at _any_ game that required him to patiently sit and think for long periods of time, for that matter—came into play. Roy knew this because, at some point after the inception (or _con_ception, depending on how one chose to view it) of their relationship, he had attempted to teach the chibi alchemist how to play. The game had been comically short and resulted in Ed launching one of the surprisingly missile-like bishops at Roy's head in anger.

Nope, Ed did not like chess one bit.

Of course, when the blonde had told the Major General this after the man insisted that anyone who stayed in a Mustang home know how to play chess, said outranking officer had smirked in a hauntingly familiar way and had _ordered_ Edward to play a game with him. Now, Roy was just waiting for the explosion.

Surely, there would soon be bits of blonde hair, red coat, and automail covering his once immaculate living room.

Tamalynn—bless her heart—was hovering over the teen, doing her best to soothe him and make sure that he didn't try to do something stupid—like, say, launch himself across the little table that the two men had set up to play and strangle her father in a fit of rage. Now, only twenty or so minutes into the game, the young woman was watching Ed with a perplexed look on her face and Roy was sure that she was wondering as to how anyone could be so _atrociously_ bad at chess.

"If he wins that game," came the voice of his mother from across the table, "it would really impress your father."

Roy smiled and turned his attention back to the small cup of now lukewarm after-dinner coffee sitting before him. "Or kill him," he added in an apathetic voice. "Either way, I'd be happy . . ."

Mai Yao Mustang suddenly got a mouthful of acid. "Roy Edan Mustang! Do _not_ speak about your father in that manner," she said forcefully, her voice very nearly dripping fire. "You should not, so lightly, wish death upon him!"

Roy sighed and attempted to soothe his usually more demure parent. "Yes, Mother," he quietly conceded, not at all surprised by her outburst; after all, he had long ago become accustomed to his mother going from delicate flower to spitting viper, then back to said flower again, all in a matter of mere seconds.

It was no longer a shock to him.

He sipped his coffee and asked nonchalantly, "Why do you care if he impresses Father? What's he to you?"

Almost as if nothing happened, his mother smoothed out her ruffled feathers and picked up her own cup of coffee before she answered. "Hm . . . I'm less concerned about _him_ than I am about your well-being. If he impresses your father, perhaps then, Gerald might grow fond of him . . . which would make things much easier on you." The response was slow and quiet and sounded to Roy as if she was carefully choosing her words before she spoke them. His mother had always been the soft-spoken type—even when she would be fussing at Tamalynn and himself about something that they had broken, it would somehow come out in low, almost calm tones.

This was different. This was her talking quietly . . . _intentionally_.

Roy, not taking his cup away from his lips, peered over the rim at the older woman seated across from him. She had the delicate, porcelain teacup clutched in her thin hands, black eyes closed, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

_Shit._

The colonel sat down his cup with a quiet _clink_ and was trying to force down the panic in his chest before he asked her what she meant by that; however, before he could sum up the courage, she looked up at him and asked serenely, "So, what is he like?"

"Huh?" Roy blinked. "Like? You mean Ed?"

Her eyes flashed. "Yes, Roy . . . _Ed_. What's he like?"

_Double shit._

With his heart fluttering in his chest and his intestines curling up into a cat's cradle of anxious knots, Roy quickly complimented himself on his ability to maintain his stoic mask. Picking up his coffee once more with both hands—needing to hold onto something to keep the bastards from trembling—he harrumphed. "Edward Elric is an overly-confident, obtrusive, arrogant, garish, loud-mouthed little brat—"

At this, Roy half-expected Ed to come shooting into the dining room, ranting about how he _wasn't_ so small that he could trip over a grain of salt or some such nonsense.

"—with a god complex and an ego as big as his co- _mouth_ . . . as big as his mouth."

_Fuck!_

No one could have corrected themselves as quickly (or as _unsmoothly_, for that matter) as Roy had done just then to cover up his not-so-little slip of the tongue. He had to give himself some internal pummeling at that point—dammit, that had been too close . . . and he still wasn't sure whether or not his mother hadn't actually caught it.

Though, as Mai Yao cocked her head slightly and said, "Really? He seems like a nice boy," then went back to nursing her cup of coffee, Roy let out a silent sigh of relief and almost patted himself on the back as he took another sip out of his own cup.

Almost.

"So, what's it like having him under you?"

Roy choked.

The cooled liquid exited his mouth in a gush as he coughed, meeting with the smooth oaken surface of his table and coating it in a thin sheen of brownish-black droplets. Hacking loudly into his gloved hand, Roy looked up at his mother through squinted, watery eyes. "H-how . . .? W-when . . . when d-did you know?" he managed through his coughing fit.

"What?" she replied calmly, unmoved by her son's overzealous reaction. "I was simply asking how you like having him as a subordinate—him being the great Fullmetal Alchemist: Hero of the People. That's all," she stated with an innocent shrug and a not-so-innocent smile.

_Shit, shit, shit!_

Roy finally set down his cup onto its saucer with a clatter, knowing that he was grasping the delicate, bone china handle with far more force that it could manage without breaking. His hands now free, he wiped the droplets of coffee from his face—his ungloved palms doing little more than to rub the sticky liquid into his skin—and then sighed loudly. "Really Mother . . ." he said in an aggravated tone, an eye twitching. "When did you know?"

There was a small, feminine giggle. "When we pulled up into the driveway."

A long, shocked silence followed, punctuated only by the harsh ticking of the dining room clock and a gruff shout of "Will you _hurry_ up already?"—courtesy of the Major General—emanating from the living room.

Roy swallowed hard, forcing his heart back down into his ribcage where it belonged, and asked incredulously, "God, were we _that_ obvious?" He thought that the two of them had been able to control themselves in public better than that—there was no kissing, touching, hand holding, sweet/dirty talk, nothing. Maybe a slip of the first name ever so often at the office and an occasional lecherous look that lasted a bit longer than it should—but nothing that could really be considered as glaringly obvious proof of their relationship, could it? Dammit, how many people knew about him and the blonde, but were just too polite or scared to tell them to stop fondling each other in public to their faces.

His mother chuckled politely into her hand and set down her cup, drawing his attention. "No, not really," she said with a small shake of her head, and the tense knot in Roy's chest loosened somewhat. "Actually, your father and Tamalynn were having a discussion over whether or not you should keep the hydrangeas out front, so they didn't see; however, _I_ was looking at the two of you from the window. Edward was watching the car, but you . . . you were watching him." The woman paused to scan the delicate structure of her son's now pallid face, watching for the reaction in his eyes. "That look you had . . . I've only seen it once before—your father used to gaze at me that way when he thought that I wasn't looking at him."

In that instant, Roy's entire body simply went slack—his grip on the edge of the tabletop loosened, the muscles in his neck and back that had tightened up relaxed, his lungs let out the breath they didn't realize they were holding—and he shifted his eyes away from his mother's tranquil face. _Of course. How could she _not_ know? Mothers know everything . . ._

_Dammit._

"How long?" she asked.

The colonel sighed. "We've . . . been together for about five months now," he replied quietly, gazing out into the living room at his lover, who still hadn't made his move apparently.

A pause, then: "Do you love him?"

_Straight to Final Jeopardy._

Roy's breath hitched in his throat for a second and he turned back to his mother. The woman was gazing at him with a look of serious intrigue, caring, and love in her dark eyes and the relief that he had unknowingly hoped to feel for so long suddenly flooded his system. The question, accompanied with the revelation that both his mother and sister now knew that he was having sex with another man, should have brought about a very different sensation: fear, anger, disgust, confusion . . . or any combination of these et al. However, Roy was so immensely relieved that his mother wasn't now looking at him with an expression of utter revulsion on her face that he really didn't care.

He exhaled heavily and let his eyes glaze over in deep thought over the question; after a long time, the young man finally shrugged and said, "I don't know." He watched briefly as a strange look overtook his mother's graceful features, and then turned back to stare out into the living room. By now, his father had turned a rather ugly puce colour and Roy could see a large vein throbbing in his temple.

"How can you not know if you love someone?" his mother asked calmly.

The Flame shrugged again. "I don't know . . ." he repeated. "I . . . care about him. Deeply. Whether or not that's love . . . I just don't know."

His mother made an amused sound, but said nothing and Roy chose not to respond. He was deep in thought.

_Did_ he love Ed? It didn't seem possible—when they began, there hadn't been flowers or movie tickets or picnics in the park, watching the clouds roll by like normal romances. No. When they began, there had been a flash of power and reactivity to rival that of sodium and water—they had clashed together with a fierce, passionate need, sated only by the feel of each others' skin, and what had followed had been explosive and orgasmic and wonderful and terrible as only first times could be.

Roy had laid there awake for a long time afterwards, wondering if what they had done had been wrong and wondering if Ed would forgive him. Of course, said blonde alchemist had then rolled over, kicked him in the shin with his automail foot, and told him that he was thinking too hard. Five months later, and an unstable, but somehow strong relationship had formed—whether it was built on lust or convenience or real love, Roy didn't know.

He _did_ know that the last person that he had given his heart to had broken it. They had rejected his love, run off, and gotten married to someone else, leaving him all alone . . . and he didn't want that a second time.

He didn't think that his heart could handle it.

"Love is too hard," he said finally.

Without missing a beat, his mother responded, "I didn't think that love was _supposed_ to be easy."

Roy let his eyelids droop slightly as he turned his attention back to her. She had a passive expression on her face, as if she was expecting a retort from him, but wasn't trying to force it from him. The dark-haired colonel heaved out a pained breath and opened his mouth to try to explain.

Fortunately, he was spared from having to say anything as Ed shouted loudly:

"_Ha!_ King me!"

And slammed a pawn down onto an open square on the Major General's back line, grinning like a madman.

Roy looked over and simply couldn't help himself. He laughed—loudly and with abandon—at the absurdity of his lover's mix-up in games, at the absurdity of his mother's almost non-reaction to the news that her son was gay, at the _absurdity_ of the whole _fucking_ thing. He laughed.

"'King me' . . . is an expression used in _checkers_, Fullmetal," he said loudly between the gales of laughter. "Not chess."

"Oh, shut up!" Ed shouted at him over his shoulder. The Major General's bushy mustache seemed to twitch in annoyance at this show of disrespect, but he didn't say anything.

The colonel just chuckled and shook his head. That move—had it been a legal one and had it been done with one of _his_ pieces—would have saved Edward. However, as it was, the Major General just growled, moved his white pawn back, then sacrificed Ed's queen for him and put him into check, much to the displeasure of the young alchemist.

Roy, his laughter now subsiding, glanced over at his mother with a lopsided grin and said, "Incomparable."

Mai Yao arched a thin eyebrow and asked, "What is?"

"You asked me before what it was like having Edward 'under me'. That's my answer. _Incomparable_."

And with that, Roy stood and made his way to the kitchen to fetch himself some more coffee, leaving his mother alone to only shake her head and smile.

* * *

**Maybe something new for next chapter. Not sure yet . . . I wanna bring some more drama into the mix . . . but I'm not sure . . . Suggestions are welcomed!**

**Review please!**

**Reader worship time:**

**naruto-freak26:** (laughs) I only listen to my music with my headphones in; but I can only listen to it _so_ loud before my eardrums start to really hurt . . . they're done now, so I'm okay. (smiles)

Thanks for the review!

**Inuyasha+Kagome:** Don't worry . . . things'll get much worse for Ed in the near future. Thanks for the review!

**inuyashabooklover5188:** Okay, good—I'm glad I got it right. I don't know . . . If you listen to Cornello or someone evil say it, it really does sound . . . harsh. (shrugs)

I wasn't sure he was gonna be until my fingers wrote it like that. I just knew that I wanted the fact that Ed was an atheist to come out. (laughs) More fluff indeed . . .

And you shall get your lemon.

**Buried Fairy Tale:** (laughs) Glad you liked it—I enjoyed writing it! I enjoy writing all RoyEd innuendos. They're just too much fun! Thanks for the review!

**Jai:** (laughs) We're all just having too much fun! New chapters later—try not to die.

Thank you for the review!

**Sakuranbo Nayamu** (laughs) I'm fine with online slang. Use it whenever! (laughs) I actually wrote the whole chapter just for that part, if you can believe it!

Thanks for the review! I love you, too!

**kharris:** Thank you!

**dragon shadows:** Nah. He's my character and I wouldn't sit next to him. I'd put him _all_ the way down at the very end of the table. (laughs) And yes—I wouldn't deprive my loyal fans of their lemon!

(laughs) Sha! Maydah sounds like a cutie! My aunt has a golden retriever named Callie . . . and a black lab (Ebby), a rottweiler (Brenna), a bull-mastiff (Sammy), and an Australian shepherd mix (Sidney). (laughs) My aunt weighs about 98 pounds—two of her dogs weigh more than she does . . .

No, not quite like a heeler or kelpie—they're taller, with really thick, multi-coloured coats, and no tails (usually). If you've never seen an Aussi shepherd, just go onto Google and look it up in images. They're really beautiful dogs. And yes, Dingo did have lots of energy . . . but, she would put most of it into stalking my dad. She was a weird dog. We sent her off to a friend of my cousin who has a big sheep farm. Dingo just loved it there . . .

(laughs) Sounds like you had fun herding the other ones around. Feel free to take up as much space telling stories as you like—I really don't mind!

Thanks for the review!

**AngylLayDying:** Ooooooh, I love your name . . . Very nice.

Thanks! The people above me have stopped now . . . that was the only time since I've moved in half a year ago that I've heard them do it, so . . . maybe it'll be another half year yet before I hear them again. (shrugs)

Thank you for the review!

**imyourvillian:** (laughs) You _have_ gotten a life! I'm so proud of you! No, I didn't get the link. Try it again, but this time put spaces between the dots and slashes and such . . . like:

http / w w w. fanfiction. net / r / 2702807 / 4 / 1 /

Like that. That way, the hyperlink Nazis don't see it as a website. Just a bunch of words and numbers. Though, I do believe that I've heard of that story.

Have you checked out 'Dark Humor'? If so, do you like it? Thanks for the review!

**Prozacfairy:** (laughs) Well . . . we shall see . . .

Thank you for the review!

**Neo Diji: **(squeals) Kara! You're one of my favourite FMA authors! I feel so honoured! First mmmslash and now you! I'm just drawing in the psychos left and right! (laughs) Just kidding!

(laughs) Yes, I can tell and I'm glad that you approve. You should try writing one—I think you'd do a good job! By the by, I'm working on an mpreg right now that you might wanna check out once I post—I know you're writing one right now as well (I'm waiting for the next chapter, by the way), so I figured that you liked to read them. (laughs)

Again, I know that you like to leave long reviews and I don't mind—the longer, the better! I'm glad that someone likes the M.G. . . . I like him, just because he's such a good antagonist and those are hard to write. And don't worry about drama—things are only gonna get harder for Ed . . .

Roy's got something to hide. (winks)

Thanks for the review! Leave a really long one again next time, please! (puppy dog eyes)

**Star Girl11:** Thanks!

**Trespasser1307: **(laughs) Thanks for caring! Like I've told other reviewers, they have since stopped and that was the first time that they did it since I've moved in here a half a year ago. So, they don't do it very often, thank goodness!

Thanks for reviewing this chappie! Hope you liked!

**BlackFire-Dog:** You're welcome. And thanks, I think so, too!

**Different Child:** (laughs) Well, I'm glad you feel better—and any review is muchly appreciated.

(laughs) And I'm glad that Sye's dad likes you. He sounds like a sweetie, calling you beautiful . . . sha! I wish my boyfriend's father was like that . . .

More importantly, I wish that I had a boyfriend . . . (sigh) Now, I'm sad.

Anyway, his name is Arasyn? That's pretty! You tell him I said that! (laughs) And, as far as all the other stuff with Roy and company goes, you'll just have to wait and see!

**Midori-Jester:** (chuckles) Yes silly, two cars! And I wish it were snowing here. It always gets really cold, but it never snows . . . stupid Louisiana. We had a white Christmas last year, but the damn stuff didn't even stick to the ground! (sigh) Oh well . . .

I hope that you got your hot chocolate! Thanks for the review!

**Sakura-Chan:** (laughs) Glad you liked it! Thanks for the review!

**broken-and-fallen: **I like your name! (laughs) Yes, Roy _is_ a sneaky bastard—but, that's why we love him, isn't it? Glad you liked! Thanks for the review!

**eeerica: **Thanks!


	6. Secrets Revealed

**Has anyone ever listened to 'Animals' by Nickelback? If you change all the 'she's and the 'her's to 'he's and 'him's, then it's an EdRoy song for this fic . . .**

**At least, I think so . . . I'm such a loser . . .**

**Here's the next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I bounced two checks at Suncoast the other day buying FMA stuff—if that doesn't say 'I don't own it', then nothing does.

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**Chapter VI: Secrets Revealed**

"So, what was Roy like as a kid?"

Tamalynn looked up from what she was doing. Edward was perched on the end of her bed, studying the ever-so-fascinating design of her comforter, obviously trying to look as uninterested in the answer to his question as possible.

The young woman smiled to herself and let out a small breath. "Well, first of all, his name wasn't Roy when he was little."

Ed looked up, his golden eyes confused. "It wasn't?"

"Nope," said Tamalynn, her black locks swaying gracefully as she shook her head. "It was Royce . . . after our uncle, who died in the Northern War all those years back. Royce Edan Mustang."

"Royce." Ed said the name slow and deliberate, as if tasting it on his tongue. Finally deciding that he did not, in fact, like the flavour, he scrunched up his face in abhorrence and shook his head. "It doesn't suit him."

That would also mean that two of the colonel's three names were cars.

_Rolls-Royce._

_Mustang._

Bleh . . .

Tamalynn laughed. "Brother didn't think so either. I was told by Mother that, when he was about five, he started insisting that people call him Roy—when he was older, he had it legally changed."

Ed grinned. "So he was just as stubborn and rebellious as he is now, huh?"

"You could say that. You two get along quite well, actually." Tamalynn paused to gaze at the blonde for a short minute, then looked over at a bare section of wall. "I didn't think that I would actually like you."

Ed blushed and smiled sheepishly. It was now Wednesday night—already halfway through the week—and, unbelievably, he and his lover's sister had become good friends. He realized that, when the three visitors left, he would actually miss her a little—if not for her witty, and _somehow_ un-sadistic (but still very 'Mustang'), sense of humour, then for the bits of background information on Roy that she gave him.

Especially the ones that he never seemed willing to divulge himself.

Though, as Tamalynn told him tales of Roy falling down a well near their home when he was six or getting tricked (by her) into thinking that there was a six-eyed, purple monster named Antonio living under his bed, Ed could understand why the colonel wouldn't want to tell him those things.

In one word:

Blackmail.

Just as a last resort, of _course_.

Edward scratched his head awkwardly. "Yeah . . . sorry about that phone conversation, again," he told her in response to her last statement.

Tamalynn looked back at him, her dark eyes swimming with amusement, and waved the apology off. "It's no problem. Roy explained to me what happened—believe me, knowing his flirtatious ways, I would have reacted the same way if I were you." The young woman noted the somewhat annoyed look of concern that flitted through the gold orbs for a fraction of a second and stated with a smile, "Don't worry—now that he's got you, I don't think he'll be doing any more skirt-chasing. You make him happy—I can tell."

Ed blushed a bright red and averted his eyes. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Tamalynn just smiled at him and went back to folding her clothes. After a long, though not uncomfortable silence, Ed looked back at the brunette and stated quietly, "You seem awfully . . . um, _unsurprised_ that your older brother is gay."

Black eyes darted up for a second, then descended again to watch over the work that the hands were doing. "I wasn't really. I was surprised when you _shouted_ it at me over the phone, yes . . . but, that was just the initial shock of it, really. In all honesty, I've known for a long time. Years even."

The Fullmetal blinked. "Really?" he asked, shifting about and sitting up straighter. Roy had just recently informed him that his mother had figured it out (and, much to Ed's relief, that she gave them her blessing)—and now Tamalynn was telling him that she had known for years . . . The alchemist then had to wonder if the Major General might actually know . . .

But he just as quickly dismissed that idea, owing to the fact that he was still alive.

"How?" he questioned. "We just figured it out only five months ago. Well . . . actually, we both figured it out _before_ that, but were both just too stubborn to tell one another that we were attracted to each other up until five months ago . . ."

Tamalynn looked up from her work, a curious expression dancing across her face. "You mean . . . he didn't tell you?"

"Hm? Tell me what?" Ed questioned. The girl furrowed her brows and bit down on her bottom lip, setting down the shirt that she had been working on folding and averting her eyes. Ed smiled nervously, not at all liking the feeling that was creeping into his stomach. "H-hey, if you don't wanna tell me, then that's fine. I mean . . . if it was really important, then . . . he would have told me himself. Right?"

The young Mustang didn't look him in the eye when she answered. "I _want_ to tell you . . . because I think that you have a right to know. And because I _know_ that Brother won't tell you himself. I think that . . . it would be too painful for him." She paused and closed her eyes. Ed cocked his head slightly to the right, then shifted around so that both of his feet were planted on the floor; Tamalynn let out a sharp breath and turned to face him, opening her eyes. "Roy was in love with another man before you."

Ed—even though he had been in his own body for seventeen years and should know how it would react to certain situations better—was very much surprised by his almost non-reaction to the news. "Oh?" he stated calmly, not quite sure why he wasn't waist deep in a violent tantrum by now.

Tamalynn nodded slowly, watching her new friend carefully for any signs that she should A) stop telling him this and B) throw herself out of his arms' length before she could be transmuted into a giant avocado or something. Seeing only a calm façade, she continued on slowly, "Apparently, they were good friends and . . . this guy helped him recover after the rebellion in Ishbal. That's . . . when Brother said that he fell in love with him."

Ed's heart suddenly beat painfully. _Waitaminnit . . ._

"Believe it or not, but . . . Roy actually called me up and told me. That's when I found out, by the way . . . He just sounded so _happy_—better than he had sounded since he had joined the military, that's for damn sure. And I thought to myself, 'Maybe this guy is the one,' y'know? But then . . ."

Tamalynn paused and lowered her eyes. Edward swallowed hard and forced himself to ask, "What happened?" Even though he was sure that he didn't want to know.

"It was July the 18th—I still remember. The phone rang . . . and I was _so_ glad that I answered it. It was Roy. He was . . . _crying_." Ed's eyes widened. "He was sobbing like a child . . . saying how . . . he had finally told this guy—this guy that he loved with all of his heart—told him how he felt about him. And, um . . . the guy rejected him. Told him that he loved him as a friend—as a brother—but that he was getting married to some woman. That he could never return his affections in that way."

_It couldn't be . . . No . . ._

Tamalynn bit down on the inside of her cheek and pursed her lips slightly. "He broke Brother's heart. After that . . . that's when Brother started throwing himself into meaningless relationships."

_No fucking way . . ._

"But then . . . he met you. And now, I find myself thinking once again . . . 'Maybe this guy is the one.'" She looked up at him and offered a thin, but happy smile. Ed let his eyelids droop slightly and he looked down at his bare feet; Tamalynn tilted her head to one side to look at him, her eyebrows knitted in concern. "You all right?" she asked comfortingly.

"I'm fine," the blonde breathed.

A pause. "I shouldn't have told you this . . ."

Ed kept his eyes glued to the carpet between his feet, but answered hurriedly, "No, no . . . I'm . . . I'm glad that you did . . ." Tamalynn slowly sighed in what could be called relief and straightened herself up again, still not taking her eyes off of the Fullmetal. Both sat there for a long while, listening to the sounds of life outside the room, and just as the brunette was considering getting back to her laundry, Edward suddenly stood and asked, "Hey Tamalynn . . . do you happen to remember the guy's name?"

_Please . . ._

The young woman, though a bit surprised by this, brought her hand to her chin thoughtfully. Thinking for a few minutes, she finally shook her head and answered, "No . . . I _should_ but, I . . . Oh! Wait—" She quite suddenly twisted out of her cross-legged sitting position and scrambled off of the bed, heading over to one of her many bags of luggage. After several minutes of futile searching and quite a bit of colourful cursing that would have made any sailor proud, Tamalynn stated loudly, "Ah, here we are!" and pulled out a thin, pink booklet.

A diary.

_Please no . . ._

She began flipping through the tattered pages, her back towards Edward so that he couldn't actually read anything—not that he'd want to, mind—mumbling dates to herself quietly.

When she reached a particularly sloppily scrawled entry, the corner bent down in a dog-ear, she stated quietly, "Here we go: July 18th." Scanning the few pages in quick succession, running her finger under the smeared lines as she went, she finally stopped under a four-letter name.

"Here it is. Some guy named . . . Maes. So . . . Ed, do you know this—"

But Tamalynn stopped. Because when she turned around, Ed was gone and the door to her room was already swinging shut.

* * *

**Okay. There you have it! I posted this earlier since the next chappie probably won't be out for a bit—it's new. Hope y'all liked . . . again.**

**Responses:**

**broken-and-fallen:** (laughs) Yes, she does! Thanks!

**Sakuranbo Nayamu**(laughs) Thanks! And no, you weren't seeing things. I did make a few slight changes. Hope they made it better.

**Different Child:** Thank you!

**Prozacfairy:** (laughs) Thanks! Glad you liked it . . . again!

**J-chan Hagane No Chibisan:** (laughs) Yeah . . . you and him would probably just quickly move pieces around the board in some haphazard manner in order to get the game over with as fast as possible. I somehow always knew how to play chess—I don't get it . . . my dad was always good at chess, and one day he was like, "C'mon, I'll teach you."

He won, of course, but he was still in shock that I _knew_ how to play without having been taught!

Thanks for the review!

**fobroks21:** (laughs) I hope you're okay—that can't be healthy for you! I love those fics, too! That's why I chose to write one!

Thanks for the review!


	7. The Talk

**(sigh) I really was gonna do a new chapter . . . I _really_ was . . . One with Mai Yao talking to Ed, because I (and all of you, apparently) love her character so much . . . but, again, I just thought that it wouldn't go well for what I have planned for Roy and Ed in this chapter.**

**Sorry if you were expecting something new . . . I have failed you all . . . I am sorry! Goodbye cruel world! (throws herself off balcony)**

**. . . (remembers that her apartment is on the ground level . . . and people are staring at her laying on the ground) . . . (gets up and goes back inside) Well that was useless . . . and embarrassing . . .**

**Disclaimer: Own them I do not . . . obviously for the above reasons . . .

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**Chapter VII: The Talk**

The aging grandfather clock chimed once, signaling to the residents of the Mustang manor that it was now one hour into Thursday and that only owls, bats, and insanely insomniac people should still be awake. Colonel Roy Mustang glanced over at the clock's face and frowned in dulled disdain.

"One o'clock already?" he asked himself drolly, picking up the mug of hot, black coffee before him and jostling it a tad, effectively swirling the contents around without needing a spoon. He took a sip, savoring the bitter, _expensive_ taste, and then placed the mug back in its saucer.

Roy sighed as he looked down at the cleared chess board before him. After Edward had lost his queen, it had taken the Major General all of five minutes to collect the blonde's remaining pieces and then get him into a rather embarrassingly simple checkmate. Of course, Ed had thrown a tantrum and stalked off to his room to sulk.

And it _was_ _his_ room . . .

Seeing as how the two alchemists had started their odd relationship off with a bang, it had seemed insensible to both of them to try to be subtle with one another when it came to their living situation—Ed had shown up at Roy's house one day with a suitcase, unpacked, and claimed half the house as his; Roy, in turn, had "agreed" to this little arrangement by (as Ed described it) putting up a _half-hearted_ fight and only attempting to incinerate him _once_. They had shared the same bed ever since.

So, when Tamalynn had informed the duo that she and the folks would be coming over for an impromptu visit in a few days, it had been a mad dash to set up a room and obtain an extra bed—for Roy only had two guestrooms in his house: one for Tamalynn and one for his parents—and then separate all of their stuff that had accumulated all over the house. Roy and Ed had had to make it look like the blonde had only been staying there for a few days prior to the Mustangs' arrival; and that meant that Edward could not stay in Roy's . . . _their_ bedroom while his parents were there.

And _that_ was why Roy was now sitting in his sparsely decorated living room at seventy-three minutes past the witching hour, cradling a cup of coffee instead of his addicting aphrodisiac of a blonde lover. The bed that he was used to sharing now felt far too big and cold without the other, albeit small, occupant. After five nights alone—and it _had_ been five nights, even though his family had only been there for three; after Tamalynn's call, neither had been able to "get into the mood," due to the stress of the impending visit—the colonel just couldn't get to sleep.

He hadn't spent five nights without company even before he _had_ met Ed. Not since the War, in fact.

It wasn't exactly a pleasant observation.

Roy heaved out another sigh and picked up a black chess piece. The king. Fingering the crown lightly with an ungloved digit, he observed the onyx plastic with a tilted head and then gently sat it down on its appropriate square.

"That's me," he said quietly, letting a small smirk play on his lips. "Um, the knights are Hawkeye . . ." he continued, sorting through his pile of players, giving them names of his subordinates, and then placing them on the board. "The rooks are pretty big and powerful, so . . . hm, they'll be Armstrong. The bishops . . . definitely Hughes—stupid, useless pieces that can only move diagonally. Um . . . pawns are Havoc, Fuery, Breda, Falman, and, um . . . hm, appears as though I've run out of subordinates," said Roy as he eyed the four remaining pawns. He shrugged, setting them up anyway. "Oh, well. They'll double."

"And this . . ." he said finally, picking up the final black player—the queen—and placing her on the white square next to the king. "Well, this is Ed . . ."

"What's me?"

The voice was so unexpected that Roy actually jumped in surprise. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught sight of Edward descending the stairs, his blonde hair out of its usual plait and flowing freely over his shoulders. He had a cute, sleepy—albeit pissy—expression on his face and he yawned loudly as his bare feet hit the carpeted floor of the living room. Roy heaved out a wanton breath and let his eyes travel down Ed's approaching form in a slow, lecherous look—even the heavy folds of the blonde's extremely over-sized military-issued shirt (whose hemline reached all the way down to his knees and whose sleeves went well past his fingertips) couldn't completely hide the lithe body that Roy now knew so well.

Edward padded over and came to a stop before the table, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. The colonel smirked. "Do you know how unbelievably sexy you look right now?" he asked the younger alchemist, not bothering to hide the lusty rumble in his voice.

The teen shrugged and put a hand on his hip. "Yeah, but I'm not gonna give that much thought, considering that it's _you_ who's telling me . . . and, of course, what you're doing."

Roy quirked an eyebrow. "And what am I doing?"

Ed stretched sleepily, his neck giving a painful-sounding pop before he relaxed again and indicated the chessboard with a tilt of his blonde head. "You're playing with yourself."

The colonel rolled his black eyes, but chuckled quietly at the double entendre. "True . . . Well, sit here in my lap and I won't be playing with myself anymore, now will I?" he mischievously suggested, leaning back in his chair and patting his knee.

He thought he saw a small smirk grace Ed's features, but if it was ever there, it was quickly wiped away by a serious, almost morose look. "Actually . . ." Edward began slowly, his golden eyes fixed on the reassembled black army on Roy's side of the board. "Can . . . can we talk?"

The dark-haired colonel frowned and furrowed his brows slightly, looking up at his lover's anxious expression with worry. "Yeah, sure. We can talk about anything. What's the matter?"

Instead of answering, Ed reached down and took hold of Roy's wrist, then gently led the man over to one of the comfortable living room divans; he pressed the colonel down next to one of the arms and then chose to take a seat between Roy's open legs, his back pressed up against the older alchemist's chest. Roy tilted his head slightly, wondering why Edward was acting so odd, and then instinctively wrapped his arms around the younger man's waist and rested his chin on Ed's shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

Ed let out an almost pained breath and then muttered, "I'm fine, Colonel."

'_Colonel'? Where had that come from? He only calls me that when he's . . . oh . . ._

"Are you mad at me? What did I do?" Roy asked placidly, going on his hunch. He cocked his head slightly, taking advantage of his position on Ed's shoulder to discretely eye his lover's profile, watching for a more visual conformation of the blonde's mood while he questioned him.

Unfortunately for him, when he had placed his chin on Edward's shoulder, said alchemist had turned his face away. Now, Roy was getting a great view of the back of his lover's ear and the thick cord of muscle in his neck—which, Roy knew, if he bit down on just right, Ed would let out this heavenly little moan and . . .

_Dammit . . ._

The now effectively _flustered_ colonel shifted his lower body away from Edward, aware that if the younger man discovered that he had gotten turned on while Ed was so clearly upset . . . well, there would be hell to pay.

The dark-haired man suddenly felt his head lift as the blonde gave a small shrug, accompanied by a noncommittal mumble in response to his earlier question. Frowning slightly, Roy sighed and pressed his lips against the back of the Fullmetal's shoulder, quickly finding one of the small junctions where a screw had been wound down into a port in the automail; he opened his mouth and gently shoved one of his lower canines into the gap between the metals. If Ed noticed this, he gave no indication or complaint, and the colonel quickly went about saturating the small area with his tongue, enjoying the metallic taste that seeped up through the now damp shirt.

Sort of like licking the tip of a battery.

Pulling back slightly, Roy stated, "Well, you're mad at something. What is it?"

When Ed answered this question with a quiet "Fuck off," the Flame's eyebrows shot up and he tilted his head to one side.

"Well," he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I'm glad we got that straightened out. We should have these talks more often."

There was a long silence between the two lovers, broken only by the ticking of the grandfather clock and the occasional night noise from outside, both too stubborn to be the one to talk first. However, after almost ten minutes of giving Roy the cold shoulder, the Fullmetal final broke the silence with a huffed sigh. "I'm . . . I'm not . . . mad at you . . ."

Roy frowned. _Oh, no you don't . . ._

Though he had only been with Edward for five months, the dark-haired alchemist was already wise to this little game. He quirked a curious eyebrow and asked, "_Were _you mad at me?"

Ed's silence was answer enough for the Flame.

Roy sighed, his left eye twitching slightly, and stated, "Well . . . if you're _not_ mad at me, then you won't mind if I do this." He pushed aside Edward's loose golden locks, and began nuzzling the back and side of the teen's now-exposed neck. Of course, he didn't get very far before said blonde reached up and pushed the older man's face away.

"You're mistaken there, Colonel. You try that again, and I swear I'll scream."

Roy grinned wickedly and admitted, "Well, that's what I _want_ . . ."

"Not with your parents here, you don't."

The colonel hummed out something that could be construed as an assent to this remark, and then busied himself with trying to untie the drawstring on Edward's pajama bottoms. However, a vice-like grip around his right forearm stopped him in his tracks.

"Mustang, if your hands go any lower, I will _rip_ off your arm and beat you with the wet end."

"_Edward!_ What's wrong?" a now annoyed Roy asked, a tic forming above his previously twitching eye. "You said that you wanted to talk—so let's talk. I know that you're mad at me. What for?"

There was a pregnant silence, before a response-like utterance finally met with the colonel's ears. Ed's voice was small and strained, but Roy still managed to make out, "Why?"

He rolled his black eyes in aggravation. "Why _what_?"

"Why didn't you tell me about Hughes?"

The knot of exasperation that had been tightening in Roy's chest, suddenly loosened by a small degree. _Hughes? Where's this coming from? I . . . I _did_ tell Ed that Maes was killed, didn't I?_

Of course he had.

Roy remembered all too clearly the pain- and sorrow-filled, guilty look that had invaded the boy's golden eyes when he had informed him of the now-Brigadier General's death. The colonel knew that the information would upset Edward . . . but he admitted to himself that he had been shocked at how utterly devastated the boy had looked—sort of like there had just been a blizzard and it would never be warm again. Roy had to remind himself that the man had been almost like a father to the Elric brothers.

He had later offered to accompany Ed and Al to Hughes' gravesite . . . though the boys had both refused. Edward had given him this _look_ that made his heart drop down into his toes . . . and asked Roy why he hadn't told them sooner. Of course, when the colonel had gone to answer, Ed had shaken his blonde head and stated angrily, "Don't. I _get _it. You didn't tell us, because you were trying to come up with a way to break it to us gently . . . and the longer you put it off, the harder it became, until . . . until . . ."

Until the easiest thing to do would be to not tell them at all.

But, of course, Hawkeye had deemed that unacceptable and had . . . _suggested_ that the dark-haired man should let the brothers know as soon as possible. Roy had finally chosen to tell them after Al had gotten his body back: it had been a happy time . . . and Roy had foolishly thought that it might lessen the blow to tell them then.

It didn't.

Now, back in the present, the guilt of that confession added itself onto Roy's confusion as to what Ed was talking about. A frown ghosted over his face and he asked, "What about Hughes?"

There was a tense pause, before Ed whispered, "Why didn't you tell me that you were in love with him?"

Well, there went his hard-on.

Releasing his grip on Edward's waist, Roy leaned away the blonde, his pulse racing, his fingers and whole legs going numb, incredulity plastered on his face. "H-how . . . who . . . how did you . . .?"

"Tamalynn told me," Ed answered flatly, his face still turned away, gaze fixed on the back of the couch.

"Did she?" the colonel asked in a tight voice, slowly recovering—but still reeling—from the blow he had just received from his blonde lover. "Oh, well . . ." he said, trying to push himself up from the couch. "Let me just go and talk to her . . ."

Ed reached around and grabbed him by the wrist with his automail hand, effectively halting the man's progress. "Roy . . . I like Tamalynn. I'd prefer it if you didn't kill her just because she just told me what you didn't have the balls to."

Roy bit down on his lower lip as he eyed the back of Edward's head, fighting down the urge he felt to shake the blonde off and rush upstairs to set his sleeping sister on fire. Deciding that he could take care of that later, he sighed dejectedly and flopped back down onto the sofa.

The silence stretched as the Flame tried to form some acceptable excuse—other than 'It's my own damn business, so stay the fuck out of it.' However, it must have stretched a little _too_ thin for Edward. "Why?" he asked again, quiet and full of morphemic vehemence.

_Why?_

A brutal lethargy suddenly and mercilessly overcoming his senses, Roy let his eyelids droop slightly; he opened his mouth . . . and just began talking, slow and deliberate. Of his past and of his sins:

"After Ishbal . . . I was a mess. The guilt of everything that I had done . . . of what I had been forced to do for the _good_ of our country . . . It was all just too much for me to handle and I . . . I wanted to just end it all. I almost did once, too—after I had moved up in rank for mercilessly slaughtering two doctors at the local hospital. I swear I had the barrel in my mouth and I wanted to pull the trigger . . . but I was too much of a coward to do it.

"Well . . . not long after that . . . I considered taking a different route. One where my life might actually be of some use. I considered doing what you and Alphonse had both done. I _actually_ considered committing the ultimate taboo—Human Transmutation."

At this statement, Edward, at last, shifted in his seat between Roy's splayed legs and looked back at him. His bright golden eyes were wide and brimming with unshed tears; he looked like he wanted to say something, but Roy held up his hand for silence.

"No, let me finish. You wanted an explanation . . . and I'm giving you one." He took a deep breath and pressed on: "Hughes found out what I was planning and . . . well, to make a long story short, he slapped some sense into me. Literally. He told me that what I was trying to accomplish was pointless and that if I wanted to change anything . . . then I'd have to go about it a different way. Then . . . he told me that, if I wanted to make this country better, that he would help me. That he would stay beneath me and he would push me all the way to the top. He would follow me to hell and back again . . . so that I could achieve my goal.

"Hughes'd been my best friend while we were growing up . . . we joined the military together—I as a state alchemist and he as a regular soldier. I don't think that he even _wanted_ to become a soldier . . . but he stuck with me even after my father forced me to follow in his footsteps. During the war, he took care of me physically—made sure that I didn't die out there . . . and afterwards, he took care of me mentally. I truly believe that Hughes is the _only_ reason that I didn't go completely crazy with guilt. He kept me sane . . . Whenever I thought about giving up, he would give me the kick in the ass that I needed to get back up and keep going.

"It was only after . . . he stopped me from doing what no one had stopped _you_ from doing . . . that I realized that . . . I did . . . love him. And . . . I thought that he felt the same . . . I mean, why would he stick with me for all those years otherwise, right?"

Roy was now staring determinedly at an invisible attrition on Edward's shirt, unwilling—if not completely unable—to look into his gold eyes. He didn't want to see the pity there.

"But he didn't?" the blonde finally asked in a small voice.

"No . . . he really _had_ just followed me through it all as a friend. I told him . . . and he looked at me like he thought that I was _vile_. Like I was the most horrible person in all of Amestris . . . and then he said . . . 'I wanted to tell you that I'm getting married to Gracia . . . and I wanted you to be the best man.'" The dark-haired alchemist paused, taking a moment to chew contemplatively on the inside of his cheek, then he shrugged and said, "I told him yes . . . and that was it. After that . . . we both sort of pretended that it didn't happen. He got married to Gracia . . . and I went on with my life . . . but . . ."

Roy stopped when he heard his own voice crack, and looked away. After a few seconds, Ed spoke up, guessing at what his dark-haired lover was going to say: "But . . . you were still in love with him."

The colonel closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

A pause. Then:

"You never _stopped_ loving him?"

Roy's breath hitched in his throat and he finally tore his black eyes away from the decidedly interesting spot on the living room carpet, looking up into Edward's now-lackluster gold eyes. He opened his mouth to deny it . . . to tell Ed that, no, he was _not_ still in love with Maes . . .

But that would have been lying.

Shutting his mouth again, he lowered his gaze down to his hands. There was a pregnant silence and Roy could almost sense all the emotions radiating off of his young lover—loathing, anger, worry, sorrow—and he could feel golden eyes boring into him.

"Ed . . . I—"

He stopped short when he suddenly felt a hand rest gently on his cheek. Glancing up, he found that Edward had turned around to face him fully, a sad, and yet oddly serene expression gracing his features.

"I'm not mad . . . _really_. I admit that I _was_ when Tamalynn first told me. I was furious and confused and scared . . . because _you_ hadn't been the one to tell me."

"But, I thought that—"

"No, don't interrupt," Ed stated forcefully, pressing his thumb against Roy's lips to hush him. "I was mad at you because I thought that . . . if it was a big deal—something like you having had been in love with your best friend—then you would have told me about it . . . Silly me, right?" he stated, though his voice held no mirth. "And I was mad at Hughes, because . . . I thought that _I_ had been the one to make you realize that you were . . . y'know . . ."

Roy quirked an amused eyebrow and asked from behind Ed's thumb, "About as straight as an alchemy circle?"

Edward sighed and continued, "Yeah. And I was mad at myself . . . for getting so upset over something that . . . now . . . just seems so pointless to get upset over. And now . . . after I've thought about it for a long time, I realized that . . . whether or not you _told_ me about it . . . it already happened. It's in the past. I know that you loved him and that . . . you . . . _still_ love him, but . . . I understand that that's part of you—it's something that I can't erase or make you forget . . . no matter how much I love you."

If shock were a sound and not merely a noun, then Roy would have been making quite a racket at that point. "Y-you . . ." he stammered out. "You . . . l-love me?"

Edward made an exasperated sound and nodded. "Of course I do, you stupid bastard. You couldn't tell that?"

Roy's eyes softened and he swallowed hard before attempting to talk. "Ed, I . . . I lo—"

The blonde suddenly placed his fingers over the Flame's mouth to silence him, shaking his head. "Don't," he said. "I don't want you to say it if you don't mean it—I don't want you to _say_ it . . . just because you think that it's what I want to hear. Even if . . . it _is_ what I want to hear."

Slowly taking his hand away from his lover's lips, Ed shifted around and gently collapsed forward against the older alchemist's chest, wrapping his unequal arms around Roy's thin waist.

Sighing heavily, Roy likewise enveloped the small blonde in his arms, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Are we okay?"

Ed was contemplatively silent for a few moments, before answering quietly, "We will be." The blonde closed his eyes and snuggled closer to his lover, letting out a small contented sigh . . . before he suddenly sat bolt upright, his eyes wide with a knowing antipathy and a strong frown splitting his face. Reaching up to his right shoulder and pulling forward his shirt, he swiftly spotted the small area of saturated cloth that had obviously just moved to where it was touching skin. He snapped his head back to Roy, face contorted in disgust. "_Ew!_ You _licked_ me, you bastard!"

The colonel chuckled quietly to himself, then leant forward to capture Edward's lips with his own before he could start ranting. Feeling the boy sigh exasperatedly, but then relax into the kiss, Roy smiled lightly to himself.

_Yeah . . . we will be.

* * *

_

**I must say that this is probably the _only_ chapter that I was pretty much completely happy with—hence the obvious lack of changes. The next chapter is new . . . and the one after that is the long-awaited lemon. So, I hope that makes y'all happy!**

**Because I'm only happy when y'all are happy!**

**Reviewer responses:**

**Sakuranbo Nayamu: **I have given up on trying to spell out your name! I'm just gonna copy and past from hence forth.

(laughs) Maes _is_ an odd name. Although, that doesn't stop me from wanting to name one of my kids that. Yep . . . my first son is gonna be Faustus and the second Maes . . . or maybe my first one'll just be Faustus Maes. That sounds nice . . . If I have twin boys, however, they'll be Edward and Alphonse.

I shit you not.

Girls are gonna be Billie Madison (not after the Adam Sandler movie, but after two characters from a book I'm writing) and the second Laurilaina Elizabeth. Yes, I have actually thought about this . . .

Even though I don't have kids . . . or a husband, fiancée, or boyfriend. I haven't had sex . . . or even my first kiss yet. And I'm nineteen . . . (sigh)

But, I'm rambling again. Thanks for the review!

**Trespasser1307:** (laughs) I wasn't actually _in_ another car wreck. Just almost—I braked in time to dodge. But thank you for your concern! For both that and the apartment sex thing . . .

And thanks for the review!

**Neo Diji:** (laughs) Yay! I listen! I guess that's why I was a school mediator in high school. Anyway, good! From hence forth, I shall call you Kara. You can call me Lina if you want to—equivalent exchange, after all! (hugs) Glad we can be friends!

And, yes—you are _definitely_ one of the psychos . . . but I mean that in the nicest possible way. Probably from the left, for the reason that you specified—I imagine that you crawl out of a small attrition in my wall, like the troll from that Stephen King movie _Cat's Eye_. By the way, if you haven't seen it . . . DO! It kicks so much ass and I love the star of the show: a stray tabby cat named General. I actually named my cat after him . . . She was a smart cookie—could open any door! I miss her . . . (wails)

(cough) Sorry for that. And yes, one of my favourites! You're on my fav. author list, if you didn't know. (laughs) I understand about your Mpreg—I actually need to do that myself . . . even if mine isn't your typical Mpreg (well, as 'typical' as Mpregs get, anyway). Don't sweat it—you'll figure something out in the end.

(laughs) Don't worry—I won't kill you for not reviewing sooner . . . I'm just glad you started! (smiles) Well . . . about the M.G. . . . if I told you when and how he finds out—yes, he _does_ find out—then, what kind of story would it be? (laughs)

Ack! You squished your cat! Run Cinnaminamimanin, run! (I can't say it right . . .) Is she a chubby cat? What kinda kitty is she, anyway? . . . I have . . . um (counts fingers) six cats. A big, fat cat that belongs to my sister—her name is Kiara, but I have recently started to call her Envy, because she has the most beautiful green eyes that I've ever seen. She's a green-eyed monster (laughs). I also have two brothers (not real brothers, but brother cats): a tuxedo named Mario and a cow-pattern named Luigi . . . my sister's idea. The others are strays (one—Nat—is Mario and Luigi's mother . . . along with the other two strays . . . my dad calls them hillbilly cats!), but their still pleasantly plump, cause we feed them all the time. I also have two dogs, two snakes and an iguana . . .

But I digress.

Yay! Long-ass response to your long-ass review—which I thank you for, by the way! Talk to you next time Kara! Bye!

**fobroks21: **(laughs) Well, no one has lives, really . . . It's just to what degree of 'lifelessness' one possesses. Thanks for the review!

**BlackFire-Dog:** (blink, blink) Worried? Bout what? And . . . you had Christmas already? Where do you live that it came a week early? I don't have Christmas until next week . . . (shrugs)

I'm in college—my Christmas break started a week ago . . . well, two weeks actually, if you count finals week, but I only had one test, so it wasn't bad at all . . . Anyway, no I'm not really updating faster. I'm just eager to get this story out of the way so I can start on my Mpreg. That's all! Hope that helped!

Thanks for the two reviews!

**Midori-Jester: **Now you know my snowless pain! (laughs wickedly) Just kidding . . . Sorry your snow melted.

Hm . . . hittocerebattosai? What anime is that from? For some reason, I think it's a sword . . . from Inuyasha or Gundam Wing, maybe . . .? Doesn't it mean 'man slayer'? I think that's it. (shrugs) Glad she liked it, anyway. Wait . . . no, it was Kenshin wasn't it? That samurai with the X scar. Yep, that's it! (nods)

Season? Hm . . . not sure. I'll say that it's early spring—just because I see Al and Winry having a spring wedding . . . I know that's a weird reason, but . . . (shrugs)

Thanks for the two reviews!

**kerlih:** (laughs) Glad you caught—and liked—all the innuendos! I try . . . (smiles)

Thanks for the review!

**AngylLayDying:** (laughs) I know! I surprised myself with that . . . But, actually, they weren't really that fast. I posted chapter five last ni— Actually this _morning_ at about 2 o'clock . . . and then posted number six this morning at about . . . 11:30-ish. (shrugs)

(points up) As you can tell from this chapter, yes, Maes is dead. Hope that helped!

Thanks for the review!

**Prozacfairy:** (laughs) Most definitely! Glad to see you remember where this is going . . . (laughs) Thank you for the review!

**Fullmetal-Alchemist1uk:** Thanks! And I agree—any and all Roy/Hughes fics should be one-sided, or occur before Maes met Gracia.

(laughs) I was wondering if anyone would catch those . . . Technically, it's 1921—FMA runs along the same timeline as our world, but they just have fewer mechanical advancements due to alchemy. So, yes, there would be no television, no Rolls-Royce . . . maybe a Mustang—since Ford started his cars over 100 years ago, there could be Mustangs at that time . . . (shrugs)

(blink, blink) Oh, you wrote that story 'The Scar' that I reviewed, right? Hey, that first reviewer was a jerk—don't mind stupid people like that. He should've seen the 'RoyEd' in the summary, the homophobic jackass . . .

(cough) Anyhoo . . . (smiles) Thanks for the review!

**Aemi-Kaishima** (laughs) Thank you!

**Different Child:** (laughs) I play chess, too . . . In fact, if people ask me if I play any sports, I always answer, "Chess . . . yes, it's a sport, stupid!"

Thanks for the review!

**dragon shadows: **I'm glad that you're glad that I'm still alive. I'm glad I'm still alive, too . . . though, he didn't actually hit me—it was just a close call. Thanks, though!

(laughs) Yes, she does. Her husband didn't really want that many, but she was like, "If I had to put up with _your_ kids for eight years, then you'll deal with _mine_." (My aunt doesn't have any real children, so her dogs are her babies).

(laughs) Evil rabbit! Man, no internet for a year . . . that would have been rabbit stew at my house. That's why our rabbits stayed outside . . . that's also why my Snowball ran away (creative name, huh?) Stupid rabbits—mine was Snowball and my sister's was Rascally. We got them from my cousin who told us they were both boys; imagine our surprise when we discovered nine absolutely adorable little bunnies running around our backyard . . .

They're Roy and Ed!

Glad you liked the car reference and the Aussi shepherds. Oh, yeah—you didn't get to read 'The Talk' last time. Hope you like it! Thanks for the review!

**AngstReflection:** (laughs) Thanks for the review!

**Star Girl11: **(laughs) Thanks!

**eeerica:** (laughs) I know! And thanks—I'm glad that this is your drug choice!

**goddessofsilvermoon:** Thank you so much! I will!

**Sirokage:** Why thank you! As for your question: it's a commonly-held belief among fanfiction writers that, if Ed were to create/find a Philosopher's stone, then he would (as he promised) get Al his body back _before_ he took care of himself. Many believe that, with a transmutation as big as bringing back a body that actually ceased to exist (technically), the Philosopher's stone would be completely used up for that one act.

And that's why Ed still has his automail in this fic. I know how the series and movie goes and I know that the above explanation is complete crap as far as that's concerned . . . But I think it makes sense as far as fics go.

Hope that helped!

**Storm Dragon Goddess:** Thank you!

**Belletiger:** I know . . . poor Ed. Thanks for the review!

**Yumiko Yoshihana:** (laughs) Sorry . . .? Hope this chappie was satisfactory. Thanks for the review!


	8. Connection

**_Grrrr!_ I can't believe it! That guy that I hit is claiming to be hurt . . . even though, at the scene of the accident, when asked several times if everyone was all right, he said that he wasn't hurt. It's even on my ticket! Injuries: 0**

**Stupidnogoodfuckingsunuvawhorebastardjackass . . . (exasperated breath)**

**Thank you for listening! As your reward, here's the new chapter! It was gonna be the lemon, but this scene just implanted itself in my head and I couldn't get rid of it . . . Oh, and this chapter is dedicated to _Pickles_ for being the 100th reviewer! Yay!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, I wouldn't have time to write fanfiction . . . besides, why would I want to? I'd just make Roy and Ed do this kinda stuff in the series.

* * *

**

**Chapter VIII: Connection**

The Thursday afternoon sun was already filtering through the drawn curtains when a nearly-awake Ed felt someone unceremoniously prod him in the side. He grumbled incoherently and made to smack away the offending digit, only to be rewarded with a slap on his hip and to have his comforter and sheets ripped away from him.

Golden eyes widened at the audacity of this person who had so boldly interrupted his sleep, and he sat bolt upright to glare at them through sleep-crusted eyes. He was greeted by the sight of Madalay, the housekeeper, stuffing his bedding down into a wicker laundry basket at her feet. She straightened and turned her dull blue eyes back to him, placing her hands on her hips in a motherly, almost scolding manner. "Mr. Elric, I need to change your sheets. Get up, please."

Ed grunted a sleepy negative and fell back onto the new mattress; he could imagine Madalay shaking her head in annoyance, her curly auburn locks bouncing with the motion, but he was really too interested in staring at a small dirty spot on his new bedroom ceiling to care. The blonde thought that the spot might be some sort of wood polish, simply because the room had been a storage place for extra furniture before he and Roy had hastily renovated it—but, what the spot was doing on the ceiling, he didn't know.

It might've been a burn mark, knowing his lover—he had discovered some cleverly concealed scorch marks at various locations around the manor . . . most of them located in places that, Ed knew, caused Roy annoyance and comical grief: the library, his study, his personal office, and of course, the kitchen.

Of course, those were just because he couldn't cook.

A light tapping suddenly interrupted his reverie and he glance over to see the petite tanned woman tapping her sneakered foot in vexation.

"What time is it?" Ed yawned out with a long stretch.

Madalay glanced down at her wristwatch and stated, "It is now 1:45 in the afternoon." Looking back up at him, she added, "You know, Edward, sir, it really isn't good for you to sleep this late. It throws off your sleeping habits, which isn't healthy."

"Why, Madalay, I didn't know you cared," the blonde teen said in a sarcastically touched voice, pressing his hand to his chest in a show of mock sentiment.

The woman harrumphed and said, "I don't really—but, if you're healthy, energetic, and . . . _active_, then that means that Mr. Mustang is happy. And if he's happy, then that means that he pays the staff more."

Ed chuckled. "I'll be sure to tell him that."

"You do that, sir," she replied with a kind smile. "In the mean time, though . . . I need to change these sheets. I could try with you on top of them, but that would make my job much more difficult, so . . . if you don't mind . . .?"

With a listless sigh, the Elric rolled over and got out of bed, stretching his arms up above his head with a barely-stifled yawn. Grabbing a tie from his bedside table and then reaching up to begin languidly braiding his thick hair, Edward asked, "Where _is_ Roy, by the way?"

Madalay had already moved to strip his mattress and responded while she worked, "Mrs. and Ms. Mustang wished to go shopping and sight-seeing today."

Ed quirked a curious eyebrow, wondering if the woman would choose to elaborate on this enigmatic statement, but she said nothing further on the subject; she completed stripping the bed, told him that she's be back in a few minutes to remake it ("So, you had best not go back to sleep."), and then left without a backwards glance.

Once the door shut behind her, Ed immediately padded back to the bed and crawled in, curling up into a tight ball in the centre of the naked mattress. "Mm . . . sleepy," he mumbled to himself, tucking his face into the crook of his flesh elbow. However, for Edward Elric to say that he was merely 'sleepy' would be a vast understatement.

Ed was dog-tired. Dog-of-the-military-tired, in fact . . .

He had stayed up till the wee hours of dawn with Roy, doing nothing but talking and some G-rated snuggling . . . but that didn't seem to compensate for the fact that the young alchemist was emotionally drained. Ed opened his eyes to stare past his arm at a bare spot on the wall, letting the golden orbs go unfocused as his mind drifted back to the previous evening.

* * *

_Edward stormed out of Tamalynn's room, slamming the door behind him. Okay, so he was mad . . ._

_No. Scratch that. Not mad—_furious_. He could feel the blood boiling underneath his skin, the marrow of his bones liquefying and seeping out through the calciferous pores to blend with his spasming muscles; he could just _smell_ the tears burning his eyes, warping the golden halos into flames and vaporizing them, turning them to dust. He was seething, ready to spit fire and sulphur at the first person who looked at him wrong, even though the only thing he could taste in the back of his throat was his own vomit. _

_The blonde torpedo was dead-set on finding Roy and having a _long_ talk with him—and, of course, by talk, he meant that he was going to hurt him. Badly. He was gonna grab him by the collar of his nicely-pressed uniform and pound his pretty little face in, until he either confessed to Ed why he had cheated on him . . . or until the blonde knocked all thirty-two of his goddamned teeth out._

God . . . Hughes. It had been fucking_ Hughes_? Why didn't I see it? I mean . . . they were close . . . I thought that they were friends, but . . . Hughes. Dammit! Even when you're dead, you somehow manage to take Roy away from me . . .

_Now, Edward _had_ been intent on doing great harm to his dark-haired lover; however, somewhere between Point A and Point P (which, coincidentally, stood for pummel), he stopped. Halted dead in the middle of the hallway at this thought . . ._

_And he gagged._

_Luckily for him—and the hallway carpet, for that matter—the point at which he had stopped was conveniently located just outside the upstairs lavatory and Ed made immediate use of it. For the second time that night, he slammed a door behind him and, kneeling before the toilet like some sort of drunken worshipper, vomited into its watery mouth._

_The Fullmetal emptied his stomach and spit and cried and gagged again . . ._

_He retched because the realization had hit him square in the gut:_

_Hughes was dead. Roy hadn't cheated on him. He had gotten turned down, rejected. He'd had his heart stomped on by his best friend . . . and he hadn't even _known_ Ed back then . . ._

_Back then._

_Not now._

_Not ever . . . He'd never cheated on him._

_His nose and throat burning with the acrid taste of bile, Edward reached up and pressed the flusher, watching through blurred eyes as his own stomach contents swirled around once . . . twice . . . countless times . . . and then disappeared, only to be quickly replaced with fresh water._

"_Dammit . . . I'm such a fucking idiot . . ." he whispered hollowly to himself, leaning heavily against the toilet bowl and crossing his arms across the rim of the seat; resting the side of his head on his flesh arm, Ed slowly let his eyes flutter shut, his body ultimately succumbing to the late hour._

"_But then again . . . so are you . . . Mustang . . ."

* * *

_

Ed sighed as he made his way down the stairs and into the living room, wobbling to and fro slightly—partly due to his exhausted state, and partly due to the nasty welt he was now sporting on his backside, courtesy of Madalay.

Well, he couldn't say that she hadn't warned him.

And, he had to admit that he was now _very_ much awake . . .

The Elric slowly meandered over to the front door and glanced out through the amber-tinted, rippling lead glass of one of the vertical windows that framed it; his eyes subconsciously darted towards what Roy called the "parking curve" of their circular driveway and he saw, with slight trepidation, that the car was gone. Though, Ed just as quickly heaved out a relaxed breath as Madalay's message replayed in his head.

"_Mrs. and Ms. Mustang wished to go shopping and sight-seeing today."_

_Ahh . . ._

As the housekeeper had so cryptically explained, Roy must've taken his mother and sister into Central for the day—that certainly clarified why the car was now missing, anyway. The Fullmetal turned away, arms akimbo, and made his way towards the library. If Roy and the rest of the Mustangs had departed from the residence for the day, then that gave him plenty of peace and quiet to get some research done. And, he was happy to report that his boyfriend could claim one of the most extensive private libraries in all of Central—second only to the fuhrer's, actually.

Lucky him.

Edward pushed open the heavy wooden doors—which Roy had installed to keep out unwanted sound, much to the appreciation of Ed (especially during the final weeks leading up to his yearly assessment)—and entered the athenaeum, immediately turning to head over to his favoured alchemic section; however, he stopped short when he caught sight of someone else seated in the carrell.

The Major General looked up from the thick tome he was currently reading to eye Edward past his long-stemmed pipe.

"Oh," the blonde stammered in surprise. "I-I'm . . . sorry. I didn't . . . I didn't realize that there was anyone else . . . here. I'll just go—"

"No, no," the dark-haired man cut in smoothly, removing his pipe from his lips and setting it down on the gueridon next to his chair. "Come in. Sit down. Do what you will . . ." He then placed his book, face-down, in his lap and busied himself with refilling his cup of tea, likewise located on the gueridon.

"Oh . . ." Ed muttered uncertainly. "Okay . . . sure . . ."

The blonde stood there entranced for a moment longer, then continued on to the alchemic section. It took only a short search and the resentful obtaining of one of the rolling shelf-ladders to retrieve the book that Ed wanted; he then shuffled back over to the sitting area, and plopped down into one of the comfortable armchairs near the Major General.

He slowly situated himself into a position that he knew from experience would be appropriate for several hours of quiet reading, and then opened up his book to the dog-ear that showed where he had stopped last time. However, instead of immediately picking up where he left off, he took several seconds to gaze out of the corner of his eye at the Major General.

The man had his unlit pipe back in his mouth and was casually leafing through _War and Peace_ like it was a romantic paperback that one selected out of a train station kiosk; instead of the blue military uniform that Ed was used to seeing him in, he had on a checkered smoking jacket, covering up his silken pajamas.

_Well, I guess he's not going out today_, thought Edward to himself. At least, the blonde suddenly felt a lot less insecure about the pajama-like clothes that he was now wearing.

With a silent sigh, Ed turned back to his book and found the line that he had abandoned last time, in favour of more . . . _stimulating_ activity with Roy. He smiled and blushed slightly at the thought, glad that his fringe was now covering up his face.

_We have good times . . . Tamalynn's right. We are good for each other . . . And I do love him . . . the big idiot._

Edward suddenly let the smile on his face drop, replaced by a contemplative look. Yes, he did love Roy. Loved him terribly . . . but, even still, he wasn't able to tell him the whole truth the previous night.

Yes: He had been mad at Roy for not telling him that he loved Hughes to his face. Yes: He had been pissed at Hughes for, ironically, making Roy gay. And yes: He had lastly been furious with himself for getting so worked up over things like that. But that wasn't everything. There had been one more thing . . . something that he had simply been too terrified to ask the man . . . something that, from now on, would sit in the back of his mind like a tipped inkpot, slowly seeking a black stain out over their relationship.

It had, ultimately, been Tamalynn who had put the thought in his mind. When she had been confessing in Roy's stead, she had mentioned how it was only _after_ he had gotten shot down by Hughes that the colonel had begun to throw himself into meaningless relationships with hundreds of women.

Women.

And that was what had Ed so concerned. That was what had chewed at his nerves all night and kept him awake. And that ink stain would only continue to grow larger . . . until the Fullmetal finally got brave enough to ask his lover . . .

_Am I just a replacement?_

"You know, if you're simply going to stare at that book all afternoon, then you should just put it back on the shelf," said a voice suddenly and Ed nearly jumped. Looking up, he saw that the Major General had once again set down his book and was now gazing at him intently over half-moon shaped spectacles. "Letting it just sit there isn't very good for it."

Ed released the breath he had been holding since the man had first spoken and furrowed his brow. "I didn't know that books did anything _other than_ just sit there."

He was really only _half_-aware that the previous thought had actually come out of his mouth . . . that is, until the Major General smirked and shook his head in amusement; Ed thought that he might have even heard a small chuckle escape past that steel-streaked moustache.

Edward had, in the most basic sense of it, been stripped naked and shoved into an icy pool of shock. Who knew that the man could laugh, let alone _smile_ without looking smarmy about it? Of course, only months before that, Ed had had pretty much the same impression of his son . . .

_Bastard._

While the blonde was recovering from the blow he had just received, the Major General chose to deliver another roundhouse punch:

"The Rockbells make your automail, correct?"

Ed blinked. "Huh? Y-yeah . . . they do, but . . . how'd you . . .?" For a moment, Edward thought that maybe because of his . . . notoriety, the maker of his automail had likewise gotten some attention for her work; however, that notion was quickly thrown out the proverbial window when the Major General took his pipe by the stem and reached over to tap Ed on the bottom of his bare left foot, the wood making a strange pinging sound against the steel.

"I recognized the maker's logo," the Major General stated, leaning back in his chair.

"Ah . . ." Ed knew that Winry had put the Rockbell logo—a small bell within a circle—along with her initials on both the pad of his foot and near the socket of his shoulder, basically marking her prize work. She had told him once that all automail mechanics did it, so that no one could claim anybody else's work as their own.

Ed didn't deny that this was a good idea—there had to be hundreds, if not thousands of automail mechanics out there. Anyone, if they so chose, could claim to have made someone else's limbs and get away with it. And, seeing as how he was known throughout all of Amestris as the Fullmetal Alchemist, he realized—not without some haughty satisfaction—that _his limbs_ would be one of the top claims among automail technicians.

Of course, that also meant that there were hundreds or thousands of mechanic's logos out there—how the Major General had deciphered that a bell in a circle belonged to the Rockbells of Resembool . . . well, that was his next question.

"You recognized the logo? How?"

The man shrugged lightly and took a sip of his tea. "They do good work," he admitted. "I wish that they had designed and constructed my automail."

Back into the pool Ed went.

"Y-y-you . . . _your_ automail?" Ed nearly-shrieked, incredulity apparent in his wide golden eyes. "You have automail?"

The Major General nodded placidly, not at all alarmed by Edward's somewhat violent reaction; he reached down and pulled up the pajama-pant of his right leg, revealing the glistening steel and other, visibly soft, alloyed metals of his decidedly well-made leg. "It's automail from about mid-thigh down," he explained. "Yours?"

Ed was silent for a moment, staring at the metallic tendons and muscles of the Major General's prosthetic calf, before he shook his head and responded, "Oh, um . . . my left leg is automail all the way up till just past my knee . . . and my entire right arm, shoulder to the tips of my fingers . . ."

The limb disappeared as the older man dropped his pant leg and sat up straight once again, giving a slight nod of his head to indicate that he had heard Ed. "Hurt like hell, didn't it?"

The Fullmetal felt a small smile pulling at his lips. "Yeah . . . it did. But . . . Ro—I mean, Colonel Mustang never mentioned . . ."

"Neither of my children knows, Mr. Elric," said the Major General as he picked up his book once again, turning back to the page that he had stopped on before. "And, I'd prefer it if they remained oblivious, if you don't mind."

Ed knew that it wasn't _really_ a request.

He sighed, eyeing the older man for a few moments, before taking a deep breath and hesitantly questioning, "Do . . . do you mind if . . . if I ask how . . .?"

"How I lost my leg?" the Major General finished without looking up.

The blonde nodded. "Yeah . . ."

The man took one final sip of tea, draining his cup, and then set down the container on the tray to his left. "Well," he began. "It was in the Northern War. Back before we had a peace treaty with Drachma . . . I was just a sergeant back then . . . lower in rank than my son, or even you are now . . . but I was air-headed and so full of myself." The Major General glanced over at Ed. "Sort of like you, I suspect."

Ed huffed indignantly at this comment, but didn't interrupt the man as he continued. "Well, my unit was up in the Briggs Mountains, near a little town called Vernal. There was a battle going on nearby and our general had learned that a small Drachmanian division was being held in reserves in that town; our unit was to go in and disarm them—keep them from heading into battle when they were needed."

Ed suddenly noticed that the Major General had gotten a distant, haunted look in his cobalt eyes. The young alchemist knew that look all to well.

He recognized it as the same look that Roy sometimes got . . .

He also knew that he himself had gotten it on more than one occasion.

"So . . ." the Major General stated with a small sigh. "We went in. Stormed the place . . . Unfortunately . . . we miscalculated exactly how large the division was. We were outmanned . . . at least five to one. We all knew that we were dead . . . and even worse . . . my younger brother was in the unit with me."

Younger brother? Wait . . . hadn't Tamalynn said something about an uncle that Roy had been named after?

"Royce," Ed murmured, almost to himself.

The Major General turned to him, a curious expression on his face. "Yes, that's correct. How did you know that?"

"Oh, well Tamalynn told me that Roy had been named after an uncle who had . . . oh, no . . ."

The dark-haired man smiled sadly and nodded. "Yes. My younger brother Royce . . . died on that faithful day. He and I, along with four other soldiers, including our colonel . . . were pinned down by Drachmanian fire. There was so much happening all at once . . . we were taken by surprise when some soldiers broke down the door of the building we were in. I suppose that if I had run, then . . . I would have saved my leg . . . but all I could think about was putting myself between my brother and their guns.

"I lost so much blood that I passed out. I found out later, after I woke up in a hospital in a city in northern Amestris . . . that one of our backup units had come in at the last second for a rescue. Unfortunately . . . they didn't arrive soon enough to save my leg . . . or Royce . . ."

Ed stared. The Major General had . . . given up a limb to try and save his younger brother . . .

Oh, irony was an evil bitch.

Sure, he had failed where Ed had succeeded—if you can call what the blonde accomplished a true success—but the resemblance that the alchemist saw mirrored in the man seated across from him was enough to stun him speechless.

"Would you like some tea?"

The question was so unexpected that it took Ed rather by surprise. "Huh?" he mumbled, still not quite able to form a coherent thought.

The Major General frowned. "Tea. Would. You. Like. Some. _Tea_?" He said the words slowly and deliberately, making sure that Edward heard each of them correctly—he might have been trying to be kind, but to the blonde's ears, it still sounded harsh.

He cringed. "Oh . . . um, yessir. Sure. Sure, I'd like some."

The dark-haired man nodded curtly and poured the teen his own steaming cup of tea, adding in a cube of sugar and no cream—strangely, exactly how Ed liked it. "Yes," the Major General said to no one in particular as the blonde took the cup. He held up his own delicate cup in a cheers type gesture, more reminiscent of something one would see done with a mug of beer in a smoky bar, instead of in a library with a tiny, bone china teacup. "Let's drink. I shall drink to your leg and you'll drink to my leg. We'll drink to each other's legs!"

As the Major General laughed and clinked their tiny cups together merrily, Ed vaguely wondered if there wasn't something more than just _tea_ in his tea. And as he sipped down the sweet, raspberry flavoured water, watching as the older man downed his own, the realization of how much the two of them shared in common finally hit him:

Both of them had automail and both had obtained said automail because they had wanted to protect their brothers (in the Fullmetal's case, that was only half-true, but still . . . no use splitting guilty hairs); both were stubborn, begrudging dogs of the military; hell, they both drank their tea the same, apparently; and both—whether or not they chose to openly show it—dearly loved Roy Mustang . . .

Ed grinned into his drink.

Maybe they had more of a connection than Ed had originally thought.

* * *

**Okay. Hope y'all liked this new chappie! To _Star Girl11_ please read your author's note below. It's important.**

**To everyone else, the lemon is next chapter . . . I'm gonna try and get it out by Saturday, but if I can't, then it'll be posted on Monday—Cause I refuse to post a lemon on Jesus's birthday. (laughs)**

**Reviewer worship:**

**Edo-kun's Angel: **(laughs) Okay! Here you go! Thanks for the review!

**fobroks21:** You're welcome! I don't like it either, especially when it's over something stupid . . . Hope you liked this chapter! Thanks for the review!

**Lurkinshdws:** Thank you!

**Belletiger: **Thank you . . . you almost cried? Well, I try . . . Roy's mom knows, just not his dad.

Thanks for the review!

**sexy pancake:** (laughs) I'm . . . sorry that I'm getting them out at a decent speed . . .? Glad you like it so much—I certainly enjoyed writing it. To me, emotional stuff is so much more fun to write than the innuendos and lemons and humour . . .

Thanks for the review!

**Neo Diji: **Hello Kara. Likewise, I have to scroll down to read your response to my response . . . if that made any sense . . . (laughs) A friend of mine will actually open the phonebook and call the people who have strange names . . . She's a psycho.

(laughs) That whole balcony thing is actually a running joke between Nana (my friend/coauthor) and myself. I was on the phone with her, telling her about something bad that had happened to me (something stupid like a bad grade or something), and she went, "Lina, don't kill yourself!" And I responded, "No! I'm gonna throw myself off my balcony!" She found it hilarious, due to the fact that she knew that I live on the ground level . . . and to the fact that I walked outside while yelling it and a bunch of people stopped to look at me . . .

Yes! I love _all_ animals, actually . . . except kissing bugs (makes disgusted sound and does the heeby-jeeby-jitterbug dance). A zoo? (laughs) That's nothing compared to what I used to have. The most at one time was:

10 snakes (one of which was named Cain—but not the one from FMA); 13 geckoes (most of which were leopards); 4 iguanas (Vann, Vash, Vaughn, Vexx); 2 bearded dragons; two dogs (both herders); 15 cats (only three of which—Kiara, Mario and Luigi—actually belonged to us). The strays were Nat and Cole (bro and sis), their kittens Stub and Love-Machine (plus Mario and Luigi); then, there's Stub and L-M's kittens—Ardis, Casper, and Chloe (who she abandoned after one hour, I was forced to take care of, and I cried hysterically when I failed to do so). There are also Nat and Cole's kittens from that season: Binx, Jonesy, Mardi, Idgie, and Obs (short for Obsidian). Told you that they were hillbilly cats.

Why did I tell you all of this? I don't know . . . Possibly to give you some insight into the source of my lack of sanity. After all, animals may lower blood pressure and stress, may give you unconditional love and affection . . . but animals need to be fed. Which costs . . . well, lots of money. Hence my stress.

Your sister's nickname for your cat is Cinnaminamimanin? Damn, I _am_ psychic. And I just realized that I once had a cockatiel named Cinnamon—oddness. (laughs) She _is_ Ed! Sha! Kiara's a brown tabby—actually she's a mixed tabby, but still pretty close. I'm sensing connections, too . . . Hmmmm . . . (laughs) Though I only call her Envy because she has those pretty green eyes, I only _started_ calling her Envy because of FMA—it put the idea that a sin could be a name in my demented little head. So, go ahead and say it . . . "Take that obsession!"

(laughs) Sorry. Can't post all the chappies at once—wish that I could, but can't . . . Though, I'm cranking them out as fast as I can so I can put this plot behind me and have a clear head to work on my Mpreg. Hope that makes you happy, Kara! (smiles)

Wow. This has reached a scary length . . . I'm gonna go now. Bye!

**Sakuranbo Nayamu** (laughs) We _are_ alike. Coy and Keith are nice names! (nods approvingly) And don't sweat the name thing—I'm getting along fine with copying and pasting!

Thanks for the review!

**BlackFire-Dog:** (laughs) My uncle (actually, my aunt's ex-husband, thank God) ran over his girlfriend with his truck—_fictional _evil, fat men aren't on the top of my 'Watch Out For' list, if you get my drift . . .

Yes, I am a college student—after this Christmas break, I'll be entering the second semester of my sophomore year (or my fourth semester of college). (sniffle) I feel so old . . .

(laughs) Yes, it'll be a RoyEd where Ed is pregnant. Hope you like it! Thanks for the review!

**Freak0515:** (laughs) Thank you! Try not to think too hard!

**Aemi-Kaishima:** Why thank you! If I could make a favourite reviewer list, you would be on it! And you'll just have to keep reading to discover how Roy's dad finds out, silly!

Thanks for the review!

**GlorysGirl4ever** Hm . . . Does that mean that if I don't update soon, you'll only support this fic half-way? (laughs) Thanks for the review!

**Star Girl11:** Hello! First, thank you for the review!

Secondly, you must know that next chapter is only the second lemon that I have ever written—I am also a rather-easily-embarrassed-when-it-comes-to-sex-scenes-virginal-Catholic-girl, so there won't be anything too extraordinarily explicit. My lemons are . . . G-rated and tasteful, let's say.

I ask you to at least _try_ to read the chapter, because it doesn't go right into the lemon. However, if you begin to feel uncomfortable, please scroll down and at least read the last line. It's essential to the plot.

Thank you for listening to me!

**Trespasser1307:** (laughs) I don't know why you keep rereading it either, but I thank you for doing so! I'm not suicidal either—I actually have a pretty good life . . . but, sure. If I ever throw myself off of my first-floor balcony again, I'll call you first. And that's okay if you talk more about my author's notes. I like conversing back and forth—it gives me something more interesting to say than "Thank you!"

So I don't mind . . . Thanks for the review!

**Briesmile:** Why thank you! And I shall!

**Pickles:** (smiles) Thank you!

**Prozacfairy:** Well, as long as life was good. (salutes) Thanks for the review!

**dragon shadows:** Thank you! I agree that she should be in the story more, but I guess because she already knows and is okay with it, then the story should focus on Ed buttering up the Major General. (smiles) Well, I try my best when it comes to angst—and if you felt sorry for the characters all through the chapter, then I've done my job!

(laughs) Most pets are like that, I guess . . . Most of mine are, anyway. Don't worry about it—Snowball ran away years ago . . . I've gotten over it. Blacky and Fluffy? Bleh . . . I could _never_ name one of my animals that. I like weird, but meaningful names (like, we adopted one of our dogs out of Oklahoma, so we called him Sooner)—Snowball was just an odd slip.

(laughs) Don't worry, I didn't. it wasn't really my window—it was my balcony/porch. The ground is only, like, an inch down . . . so, no I didn't hurt myself. But thanks for caring! (smiles)

(laughs) That was pretty random. A gingerbread house . . . (frowns) It's not that I don't like them—it's just that in my . . . (counts) twelve years of Girl Scouts, I made a lot of GS cookie houses . . . none of which I got to eat. (sad)

Thanks for the review!

**Sakura-Chan:** (laughs) Thank you for caring . . . but, as I told Shadows, my balcony/porch is located about an inch off of the ground. Your transmuted net would be wasted . . .

Thanks for this review and the one that you probably already did in 'Automail'!

**Yumiko Yoshihana:** (laughs) Well, I suppose that I feel honoured that you would be happy enough with a new chapter to openly embarrass yourself in your school library. I'm also glad that you liked that chapter so much!

You have a cat named Hikaru? Hikaru is my friend's IM name and the name of her OC from a Wolf's Rain fic that we had planned on doing . . . How interesting . . .

(laughs) You and your friend were reading my story during a test? Shame on you. (smiles) Though, I'm glad that my story could inspire such an act of deviance. Glad she liked it!

(laughs) You poor thing. I hope that you can count them all . . . And, I'm . . . sorry? Check out my favourite authors—all but one are FMA authors and most like to write RoyEd. And they're all awesome—otherwise, they wouldn't be my favourite authors. (laughs) I can imagine you sitting there, leafing through the stories, talking to yourself like that . . .

I hate that, too! (shakes hand) Glad we can see eye to eye. That's why I started writing these stories.

Hagane No Chibi-san means Fullmetal Midget in Japanese. In fanfics, it's what Envy calls Ed a lot of the time. (laughs) I love how you're having an argument with your cat . . . My sister and her cat, Kiara do that all the time.

Yay! I'm Faerie-sensei now! (sniffle) I feel so loved and important! (laughs) I'm not sure how Arakawa would react either . . . I suppose that's why we have disclaimers . . . (shrugs)

Thanks for the reviews! See you next time!

**imyourvillian:** No, just almost another wreck. Thanks for the site! I actually did see that before, but didn't read it. I will now, though! Glad you like 'Dark Humor'.

Thanks for the 'slew of reviews'! I appreciate your lack of life! (laughs)

**Midori-Jester:** April or May. I can still see it being kind of cold—like, in this chapter, I can see Ed wearing blue checkered pajama pants and a semi-tight, long-sleeved blue shirt . . .

Why I told you that, I don't know . . . Thanks for the review!

**Buried Fairy Tale:** If you mean the first wreck, then thank you! If you mean the second (non-existent) wreck, then . . . well, it was non-existent—he didn't hit me. But thank you for caring, anyway! And it's okay if you didn't review the last two chapters . . . I still love you! (hugs)

Thanks for the review!


	9. Redhanded

**Aah! Please forgive me! I told you all Monday . . . and it's now Wednesday! I'm so sorry—my friend's other best friend came over from Texas and they wanted me to go spend the night and then we spent all the next day together and . . . and . . .**

**Ack! I just forgot! I'm _so_ sorry! Please don't hate me!**

**Here: I give you lots of Christmas cookies, love, and a lemon for your patience with me! I loves you all so much!**

**Disclaimer: No. Just . . . no . . .

* * *

**

**Chapter IX: Red-handed**

Edward stood on the front steps of the Mustang estate, waving at the black car as it rounded the driveway into the street; Roy likewise stood beside him, hand raised in a lazy farewell wave, until the car containing his family disappeared behind the stone wall that separated the house from the outside world.

Dropping his hand back to rest upon his hip, he lowered his gaze to Ed with an ill-contented sigh. "Too bad they're not leaving for good, huh?" he asked the blonde alchemist with a small grin.

Ed offered his lover a tired smile and stated, "One more night, Roy. Just one more night."

The dark-haired colonel gave him an odd, almost sympathetic look, and then turned his gaze back to the wrought iron entrance gate, which was swinging shut as they spoke. Edward sighed and let his golden eyes drift back to where the car had just exited the property, cursing his and Roy's bad luck that Tamalynn, Mai Yao, and the Major General would only be gone for a short time.

* * *

_After the three absent Mustangs returned from their day out, Mai Yao happily suggested that the family—which included Ed, much to he and Roy's secret delight—go to see one of the shows playing in Central the next day. The Major General huffed and stated in a gruff voice, "Unless we get decent seats up near the front, I won't be able to see a thing. We should go to the symphony, instead."_

_Mai Yao shoved her fisted hands down onto her hips and said, "Gerald, we can go to the symphony any time back home! We can only go to plays in Central and that's what we should do while we're still here." She then told him that, if he was going to complain like that, then he should get some glasses._

All the better to see you with, my dear.

_Her husband said something rather childishly along the lines of "I don't want to go to a play; I want to go to the symphony!" and Mai Yao responded fiercely in her native tongue. A brief argument ensued between the two, of which none of the younger trio attempted to break up and in which Ed admittedly had no clue as to what was said, owing to the fact that both parties were speaking fluent Xingese._

_A few minutes later, much to the surprise of the blonde, the Major General stood and stormed out of the room, a defeated and . . . almost horrified look on his face. But Mai Yao just smiled sweetly and said, "Tamalynn dear, why don't you pick out which play we're going to go see?"_

_Knowing that his lover was highly confused by this turn of events—as he showed it in his dazed expression all the way through dinner—Roy pulled him aside later that night, just before after-supper coffee was served, and explained:_

"_My father and I aren't the only members of this household who have been in the military, Ed. My mother was also enlisted up until about thirty years ago—she only withdrew from the military after I was born."_

_Ed stared._

"_Your mom? But . . . but, she's so . . . so . . ." Edward slowly shook his head from side to side and waved his hands about in small circles, as if doing so would generate the word that he was looking for. "Dainty."_

_Ed knew that there were women in the military. Hell, he saw Hawkeye nearly everyday; not to mention Maria Ross and Sheska, who he occasionally bumped into—along with the dozens of other officers, secretaries, and such that he saw around HQ. But, somehow, Roy's mother just seemed far too feminine to be strutting around in the stark blue uniform that he was so accustomed to. The gentle silk blouses and tweed skirts that she now wore seemed much more suited to her._

_The dark-haired man chuckled softly, looking back to the dining room where his mother was now serving the coffee. "Trust me—back when she was younger, my mother was _anything_ but dainty."_

_Ed felt himself gulp._

"_She was brought over from Xing, along with several other highly-trained combatants, and was enlisted in our military. You see . . . my mother had special skills that, frankly, our military wanted. Or, at least, that's what I've been told."_

_The blonde's eyes narrowed, half-hiding the golden irises that Roy had grown so fond of, and he pursed his lips in contemplative speculation. "And what skills were those?" he asked tentatively._

_Roy took deep breath and said, "She knows how to make people talk."_

One. Two. Three. Four seconds . . .

Ding!

"_Y-you mean she . . . _she_ t-tortured people into . . . giving up information?" Ed questioned, his voice suddenly going quite small and shrill as he glanced back to where his lover's mother was sitting, delicately sipping coffee. "No fucking way."_

So that was why the Major General had looked so terrified . . .

_Ed was suddenly very glad that he couldn't speak Xingese._

"_Yes way," Roy corrected, choosing to leave out the expletive that his boyfriend was so fond of using whenever he was upset or shocked. "I suppose that our military knew that no one would expect a little Xing girl to be so vicious with her torture methods . . . No one would suspect _her_. And that's why she was chosen. There was a war going on . . . and, I'll admit that was how my parents met, so it wasn't all that bad. So . . . what do you think?"_

_Edward was silent for a few moments, letting all of this new information regarding the kind woman sitting not forty feet away from him sink in. Vivid visions of her shoving bamboo spikes under fingernails, clipping off people's fingers and toes like she was pruning the hedges, and trapping live rats under buckets on prisoners' bare stomachs suddenly flooded Ed's mind. He felt sick . . ._

"_I'll try not to get on her bad side, then," he finally stated in a squeaky voice, giving Roy a nervous smile. He then sighed and turned away, talking to his lover over his shoulder without looking at him. "Though . . . now that I know that your mother was in the military, I have to admit that your miniskirt policy thing now seems slightly . . . Oedipal."_

"_You're sick, you know that?" Roy said defensively, following after the teen._

"_A) That's why you love me," Ed stated, not seeing the small twitch of nervousness that went through the older alchemist at the last word. "And B) Not as much as you, old man."_

_Quickly shaking off the uneasiness before it could show in his voice, said old man sighed and attempted to change the subject. "How do you know about that miniskirt policy, anyway?" he asked, suddenly very curious as to who had told the blonde about his—now purposeless—plan to clad all women officers in skirts that blatantly disregarded the fingertip rule._

_Ed smiled, though the dark-haired man couldn't see it, and stated, "Hawkeye."_

_The Flame let a sound of displease escape the confines of his throat. "Figures . . ."

* * *

_

Ed crossed his arms and turned away with a sigh, heading back inside, and Roy only gazed at the street a little longer before following suit. "What're they going see, anyway?" the blonde asked dully.

Even though they had both been invited to attend with the three other Mustangs, both had also declined. Roy said that it was because he had lots of paperwork to catch up on and Ed didn't doubt that this was true—the man had taken the entire week off from work to tend to his visiting parents and sibling.

Hawkeye had _not_ been pleased.

And, of course, if Roy wasn't going to the show, then Edward didn't feel comfortable going. It wasn't that he didn't like spending time with the Mustang herd . . . it was just that, without his lover there, him canoodling with Roy's family didn't seem appropriate. Even though, that was really what he was _supposed_ to be doing.

The dichotomy of it was enough to make his head explode.

In the end, Edward had scratched the back of his head with a nervous smile and declined the invitation, saying that he really should go and check on his brother and visiting friend before she left town, instead. The Major General had given him an oddly suspicious look, but had said nothing.

"Um . . . _Fiddler on a Hot Tin Roof_ or something like that," Roy answered as he crossed the threshold of his house, looking back over his shoulder at Ed, who was holding the door open for him. "Honestly . . . who would write a play about something like that?"

Ed shrugged placidly and responded, "Who knows . . ." He closed the door behind him and leant one shoulder against it. "So, how long is it, anyway?"

Roy rolled his eyes upwards in thought and chewed ponderingly on the inside of his cheek before replying, "About three hours, I think."

Nodding slightly, the blonde teen went to respond to this . . . but he was cut off as Roy crashed his lips down onto Ed's open mouth and literally _slammed _him up against the door. Although initially shocked at this, the Fullmetal quickly recovered and leant into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Roy's neck and pulling the taller man down into an embrace.

The Flame chuckled a lusty rumble into Ed's mouth and, mentally cursing how humans were created with the need for air, the blonde pulled away with a gasp. "God, I missed you . . ." he whispered breathlessly, gazing up into Roy's desire-darkened eyes and raking his fingers through his black hair.

A smirk. "Same here. I'd forgotten how good you taste."

Ed scowled. "You forgot? Just who have you been kissing these past few days, you—_whoa!_" The blonde cried out in surprise as Roy grabbed a hold of the backs of his thighs and, lifting him up so that their waists were level, slammed his back against the door once again. "Ow! You need to st—"

Edward stopped his protest, letting out a contented little sigh as the colonel kissed him again. Pulling back to begin working at the skin on the blonde's neck, Roy mumbled against his collarbone, "Maybe I should just fuck you right here against the door."

Chuckling slightly, Ed closed his eyes at the ministrations and muttered sarcastically, "As _romantic_ as that sounds . . . I don't think that Madalay would appreciate walking out here and finding us."

"I'll pay for her psychologist," the dark-haired man offered as he nibbled at Ed's neck playfully.

"Roy," he said as forcefully as he could muster. The man was already having a dangerously intoxicating effect on him, inhibiting his ability to think straight. If he let the colonel go any further . . . he might not have the will to say no.

Sure, Roy's family may have departed from the house, set to be gone for a good few hours, but that didn't mean that the time was written in stone; it would be . . . _inconvenient_, to say the least, if they were to return early and find the two alchemist doing each other up against the other side of the front door.

Not to mention if anyone else were to walk in unannounced.

Roy mumbled a confirmation that he was listening against the lovely cord of muscle that ran down Ed's neck at a gracefully sloping angle, and the blonde managed to get out, "Roy . . . upstairs . . . bedroom."

"That would take too much time," the Flame said quickly before returning to work. "And energy . . ."

Edward rolled his eyes. "I'll take my clothes off on the way up . . ."

Roy paused in his ministrations to gaze down at the younger man. "Hm . . ."

* * *

Much to Roy's disappointment, Ed had only managed to shed his boots, red coat, and jacket by the time he carried the chibi alchemist up the stairs and dumped him unceremoniously onto what was once—and after his parents left would once again be—their bed.

"You're losing your touch, shrimp," said the dark-haired man, planting his knees on either side of his young lover. "Normally you're naked by now."

Ed huffed indignantly at the gibe Roy had made regarding his height and how it resembled that of a sea-faring crustacean, not caring that the man was now straddling his waist, a very personal part of his anatomy digging into the blonde's stomach. "Shut up, you asshole. Maybe you're losing _your_ touch—maybe you're just getting too _old_ for me . . ."

Of course, Edward didn't really mean this; the same way Roy didn't really mean that he was short. Though they may have both been deadly serious when they first met, launching volley after caustic volley at one another, now it was just playful banter between them.

"Old, huh?" the colonel asked, a frown forming on his face, but a mischievous twinkle in his black eyes. The blonde smirked as Roy swooped down to claim his lips in yet another overpowering, passionate kiss—almost like a childish challenge to Ed's former statement regarding his age.

"_I'll show you who's old!"_

That was what the kiss said.

Ed suddenly felt hands—intrusive, groping, welcome, wonderful hands—sliding beneath the black tank top, callused fingertips dusting along his rippling obliques. A violent, involuntary shudder ran through him at the electrifying touch and he quickly shifted beneath the older man, trying to find a more comfortable position on the familiar old mattress.

Roy pulled back and looked down at him, a triumphant look plastered on his face; however, instead of the pang of annoyance that usually ran through him, Edward only felt a strange, giddy pressure in his chest—it was a feeling that he remembered well, from back when he first realized how he felt about the man hovering over him.

Nervousness.

His eyes suddenly softened, his lips parted, and the words left his mouth before he knew that they had formed in his throat:

"I love you."

The three syllables hung heavy in the air like a poisonous miasma, bringing the colonel to a dead stop. Roy stared down at the blonde, stoic mask set firmly in place, something unreadable, yet nonetheless haunting in his dark eyes. A soft smile pulling at his lips, Ed let his head drop back against the pillow, golden orbs hiding behind their lids.

"Don't look so terrified, Mustang. I told you that you don't have to—"

Ed stopped.

Lips. Warm, wet lips urgently crashing down onto his own, smothering the words in his mouth and leaving him breathless. It only took a second for the realization that Roy had probably only kissed him so that he didn't have to _think_ about what Ed had just said to sink in—and about two seconds more before Ed's brain went hazy, his fingertips went numb . . . and he realized that . . . he didn't care.

He didn't care whether or not this man chose to truly love or not love him in the end; he didn't care if Roy had once, or still did love Hughes; he didn't care if he could never have all of his heart. Right then, in that moment, he didn't _care_.

All he wanted then was to seal their mouths, tongues, lips together; to entwine their limbs and meld their bodies to each other in a macabre, chimera-esque fashion; he wanted to run his fingers through black hair and feel damp, pale skin beneath his flesh palm. He wanted this man.

Edward loved Roy. _Loved_ him.

And he wanted time to stand still, so that he could hold him . . .

Forever.

However, physics did not take into account the wishes of prodigal alchemists and, much too soon for Edward's liking, the colonel pulled away, a smile forming as the blonde attempted to follow his lips. Chuckling quietly, the Flame moved his attention lower, dotting hot kisses along Ed's pristine jaw line and down his neck. He paused just long enough to nibble on the ample clavicle, earning a delightful moan from his partner, before moving on.

Roy passed up the Fullmetal's chest, which still had the intrusive black fabric of his tank top wrapped stubbornly around it; he chose instead to concentrate on giving attention to each perfect mound and valley that made up Edward's abdomen. Said alchemist giggled and squirmed fruitlessly beneath Roy's strong hands, half-attempting to twist away as a tongue found Ed's navel.

But to no avail.

Deciding that there was no use in trying to escape from the titillating strokes of simultaneous hands and mouth, Edward instead pressed his head back into the down pillow as far as it could go, reaching up to drape his arms above his head, and arch his back into the touches.

He felt his lover breathe out humourously into the graceful curve of his diaphragm, his breath fanning out in a warm huff over the rise of his exposed chest. Then, the long-awaited feel of Roy's hand traveling downwards . . . down past his belly, past his navel, past his slender hips . . . to rest at the place where his warm, tanned skin met with his leather pants.

Ed was only slightly aware past the feeling of lips trailing liquid-hot kisses down his rippling stomach that quick fingers were working away his belt buckle. Unzipping his pants . . .

And then the familiar, exquisite sensation of teeth and lips and tongue sliding down his heated erection. Edward gasped and bucked against Roy's mouth, the touch completely overtaxing his seven-day-abstinence-starved nerves.

Hands groping and twisting the sheets into tight balls at his sides, breath coming out in a painful hiss as teeth grazed sensitive skin just enough to hurt . . . the blonde blinked and tilted his head in the direction of the closed door. Roy hummed away happily as he worked, completely oblivious to Ed's concern.

Oblivious to the fact that he had heard something from downstairs . . .

Panting, the Fullmetal tried to find his voice through the hormones speeding through his bloodstream like a drug and the ungodly pleasure trampolining somewhere below his navel. Unfortunately, all he managed to squeak out was his lover's name, before Roy did something _amazing_ with his tongue . . . and Ed went cross-eyed.

But somehow . . . somewhere past his huffing breaths, the blood pounding in his ears, and the foggy, lust-induced haze hovering over the logical parts of his hormone-addled mind, Ed barely managed to hear the footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hall . . .

Before their bedroom door slammed opened.

* * *

**Heh. Sorry it was so short . . . but, I hope you liked. Please review, for I have low self-confidence when it comes to my lemons. (puppy dog eyes)**

**See you next chapter—which I haven't completed yet. It may be the last chapter, it may not; it all depends on how my fingers decide to type it. And, because I haven't finished it yet, I won't give a specific date as to which it will be posted. Just stay tuned . . . or whatever . . .**

**Please review!**

**Reviewer worship time:**

**Anime#1Fan:** (laughs) Yes, you and Ed are thinking along the same lines. Thank you for the review.

Oh, and I figured that was what you meant in your first review . . . it didn't make sense grammatically, otherwise.

**Briesmile:** Thank you!

**AngylLayDying:** No, it's just Tamalynn and Mai Yao at this point. Not the Major General. It would be kinda scary if he was talking to Ed like that, knowing that he was porking his son . . .

Thank you for the review!

**Sakuranbo Nayamu** (laughs) Glad you weren't too disappointed in the end. And I hope that your long wait for the lemon paid off . . .

(laughs) I'll try not to make him cry too much, because I don't like it when he does that either. Thanks for the review!

**Midori-Jester:** (taps chin contemplatively) Red and gold? I don't know why, but I just can't picture him in that . . . Maybe because they're his sleepy clothes and I see blue as more of a relaxed colour, whereas red is what he wears all the time when he's traveling . . . (shrugs)

But you're free to see him as a phoenix if you want!

(laughs) Thank you for caring! I love your comment! I read it to my parents and sister and they all got a kick out of it!

Thank you for the review!

**BlackFire-Dog:** The Mpreg? It'll be out when I start to write it, silly. As I told you earlier, I wanted to finish this story up so that I had a clear mind for the Mpreg story. I've already started writing out specifics in my head, so the first chapter might be done and posted by the end of Christmas break.

(blink, blink) I'm no smarter than anyone else on my level. I mean, I'm nineteen, so I'm supposed to be in college . . . Though, if you wanna say that I'm cool, then by all means, go right ahead. (laughs)

Writing or reading stuff on ff(dot)net isn't just for the young'uns. Many of my reviewers are in their twenties and such . . . You just have to like anime and stuff. (smiles)

And the fact that you are totally lost, I don't find all that weird. (laughs) Just kidding! Thanks for another review! Hope that cleared up some stuff.

**Worsel:** Thank you!

**eeerica: **(laughs) Isn't it, though? Thanks for the review!

**Star Girl11:** That's okay. Hope that you enjoyed the rest of the chapter! (laughs) I understand that . . . the first time that I heard about a lemon, I thought that it was talking about a faulty car . . . Silly me, huh?

Thank you for the review!

**dragon shadows:** (smiles) That's pretty much the consensus between most of the reviewers. They're like: "I never would have guessed that! That was a shock!" I'm glad that you liked! (smiles)

(sad smile) After I started college, I couldn't spend as much time caring for all of my babies. I gave most of them away to a wonderful couple who has a real thing for exotics (they have an Australian species of baby deer, a tortoise, a coatimundi, some wallabies, and a bunch of geckoes and snakes, among other things—the husband is from Australia), and my big girl, Taltos (an African Rock python) went into the breeding program at the Audubon Zoo in New Orleans. We still have two cats, two dogs, two snakes . . . and one iguana in a pear tree. (laughs)

Hm . . . Christmas was on Sunday, wasn't it? Maybe our days _are_ different . . . (shrugs)

(smiles) Decoration _was_ fun. Besides, the cookies that we always used were over a year old and we'd hot-glue them onto cardboard . . . Our houses weren't very edible.

(scratches head) I said in chapter two that Roy was twenty-nine . . . though, now that I think about it, that's wrong. If Ed is seventeen in this fic, then that means that Roy would be thirty-one. So that's . . . what? Fourteen years?

I honestly have only seen each episode about one time each . . . I didn't know that they gave a specific amount of years since the war had taken place. How many was it, by the way? Please? And I agree: he hasn't aged at all since the war, the bastard! (laughs)

Thanks for the review!

**MilkShake:** I wasn't sure that that was a real place. All I knew was that Drachma and the Briggs are really cold, snowy places . . . and vernal is a word usually associated with springtime. I thought that the irony was appropriate.

Thank you for the review!

**Prozacfairy:** (laughs) Thanks for the review!

**Belletiger:** Hm, maybe so . . .

Thanks for the review!

**Yumiko Yoshihana:** Really? Sixteen? Wow . . . I didn't think that there were _that_ many! I may go through myself later on to double check you on that, but I trust that you're correct in your assessment . . .

As you know, I'm happy when my readers are happy! Though, this chapter will probably be posted by the time you read the last one if you have to wait . . . (shrugs) As long as you can read it!

(laughs) Apparently not. Though he's supposed to love everyone, I don't think that Roy and Ed doing each other is a gift he'd want for his birthday . . . I don't know why not; that's what I would want! (laughs)

I wish you luck in your mission brave soul! Good luck on finding _that_! Yes, WinrySheska fics have been popping up a lot lately. (shudder) I agree . . . I'm more a yaoi fan than yuri . . .

Thanks for the review!

**GlorysGirl4ever:** (laughs) Thanks, I guess!

**fobroks21:** Thank you! (stares at strange message at end of review) Um . . . do you care to explain this? Hm . . . Hey, it rhymes!

Strange . . .

**Honor:** Thank you!

**Trespasser1307: **He is! And, he's a lazy good-for-nothing! It wasn't even his car, the jackass! (sigh) Thanks for caring.

(laughs) Yes it makes sense, silly! Though, now, all the buttering up Ed did . . . well, next chapter you'll see.

Thanks for the review!

**Raven Cactuar:** (salutes) Evening Fido . . . (laughs) Just kidding! Glad you're home safe! My dad and grandfather were both dogs of the military. My dad was a first lieutenant back in Vietnam and my grandfather was a marine in WWII.

I've been fine, thank you very much! And no, no one's been _pushing_ me to write it. I actually volunteered to do so and they all sorta jumped on my fruity bandwagon. (laughs)

Thanks for the review and I hope that you had a terrific Christmas with your family!

**Artificial Wings 39:** (laughs) A bit spastic, aren't you? Well, that's how I like my readers . . . Thanks for the review!

**Pickles:** Yes, silly—a whole chapter for you! (laughs) I'm glad that you can now die happy!

Why, thank you! I'm glad to hear that you think that's how Roy's father would be . . . I do try, after all. (smiles)

(laughs) Well . . . who says that they don't know? (smiles mischievously) Thanks for the review!

**Sakura-Chan:** Yay! (laughs) Thanks for the review! Hope you liked this chapter!

**authoraisarete** (laughs) I love you, too! And I'm glad that you agree with my morals! (laughs) Okies.

**xX Konoha Ninja Xx** (giggles) I'm happy that you're so in love with my story! Thank you!

**hyperdude:** Why, thank you!

**Faith Lee:** (laughs) You have had too much coffee! Thank you! And I'm glad that his father is likable to you! Thanks for the review!

**Daga:** (cringe) Again, I'm so sorry! I never should have made that promise if I couldn't keep it . . . (cries)

Oh, a cookie! (nibble, nibble, happy sounds) Thanks for the review!


	10. The Confrontation

**First and foremost, I would like to thank _Jai_ for informing me that some thieving bitch had _plagiarized_ my story—I thought for a second that, maybe, she had just thought up the same plot as me (FMA is a popular anime, it would be understandable if someone had come up with around the same plot) . . . but _no_. Word for word, same story; even the chapter titles, disclaimers, and summary were the same! Did she think that one of y'all wouldn't notice? She even had the _gall_ to tack "Will update quickly, like everyday!" on the end of the summary.**

**Yeah, it'll update everyday . . . because it's already been written for you!**

**(huff) I sent her a politely _threatening_ review and she quickly removed the story.**

**So, _BIG_ hugs and kisses to Jai, because if she hadn't told me in her review, then I probably wouldn't have realized. Thanks hon! **

**Disclaimer: Why bother . . . you know . . .

* * *

**

**Chapter X: The Confrontation **

Roy, hearing the angry crack of the doorknob against the wall—along with Edward's frightened, incoherent sputtering—languidly lifted his head from between the blonde's legs and looked back over his shoulder.

The first thing that he noted was how his father's wedding band stood out in stark contrast to his thick fingers and knuckles as his fist came crashing down against the Flame's cheek. The second was what a lovely grain the stained wood of his bedroom floor had. Funny, he'd never noticed it before . . .

Amid the horrified screams of multiple people, Roy felt himself being hauled off the floor—and off his feet—by his shirt collar, to stare into the purple, livid face of the Major General. Then, another fist connecting solidly to his jaw knocked any remaining sense out of him.

Doing his best to stay on his feet as his father dragged him past his shocked mother and sister, Roy barely noticed through his oncoming concussion that he was being taken downstairs and into the living room.

_(Trip . . . trip . . . trip, down the stairs . . . knees hurt, toes hurt, face hurts . . .)_

Roy's punch-drunk feet had barely hit the carpeted floor, before he felt himself being dragged further into the living room; it was only when the backs of his calves bumped into one of the sofas and he felt two more crushing blows to his face and stomach that he realized that the Major General had finally come to a stop.

Falling back onto the couch—clutching his stomach and wheezing out a pained breath—by agonizingly slow degrees the colonel looked up through his black fringe into the bulging, blue eyes of his father. The man was red and trembling with rage; his moustache shivering with each breath he forcefully expelled through his nose; his knuckles were white as his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, trying their damnedest to curl into fists.

"My son . . ."

The words were hissed out through gritted teeth, almost as if it hurt the Major General to say them. In his peripheral vision, Roy could see three smaller bodies making their way down the stairs, their horrified faces turned in the direction of the father and son.

"What a _wonderful_ way to find out that my son is a _faggot_!" he spat out, his voice dripping like venom and liquid fire as it exited his mouth.

"Gerald!" Roy's mother gasped, clutching a hand to her chest in shock.

"No!" the Major General bellowed. His booming voice echoed around the expansive room like a baritone note, causing all bric-a-brac on shelves, tables, and the fireplace mantle to tremble and clink their alarm at the disturbance—not to mention making all present company jump slightly. "Don't you defend him! Don't you _dare!_" he shouted at Mai Yao, never once letting his cobalt orbs flicker away from the fallen colonel.

"After what he did . . . what he was _doing_ . . . with another man!" The Major General's face contorted in disgust. "It's _sickening_ . . ."

Roy then felt himself being pulled to his feet again, lifted off the couch by the lapel of his shirt to have his father's puce visage shoved uncomfortably close to his own, the man's warm, sickeningly-sweet breath fanning against his cheeks and mouth. "_You're _sickening," the Major General whispered. "What you're doing is a _sin_ . . . a shameful, deplorable, _deliberate_ transgression of morality! If you continue down this path, you are doomed to hell . . . Don't you know that!"

Roy said nothing and gave no indication that he had even heard the Major General—he merely let his father, lost in some sort of zealous, Tourette's-like stupor, shake him like a rag doll and shout homophobic obscenities at the top of his lungs. The colonel could hear his sister crying, shouting at their father to _stop, please Daddy, stop it!_ and he could see his mother out of the corner of his eye, watching her only son get beaten and being able to do nothing about it. And Ed . . .

God, Edward looked absolutely terrified. He was trembling and there were tears dancing around the reddened halos of his golden eyes, threatening to spill over at any second—however, said eyes were also . . . incensed. There was rage there . . . all of it, Roy knew, being directed towards the Major General.

Ed looked like he wanted to take some sort of action to stop what was happening; however, the Flame quickly gave the teen a threatening glare, clearly telling him to back off . . . that he could handle it.

Thankfully, Edward—stubborn and thick-headed as he was—got the message and relaxed his defensive stance.

If only slightly.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" the Major General finally asked, lifting Roy off the ground and glaring daggers up at him. "Hm? Explain yourself, dammit!"

Roy merely stared down at the man, letting the silence stretch. Only when his father appeared as though he may explode as a result from holding his angry breath, did Roy make a move. He casually lifted an arm, running a rumpled sleeve across his mouth . . . and then, he very prominently _swallowed_ . . . and grinned down at his father.

His feet touched the floor and it only took another fist to the left side of his already bruising face to wipe away any traces of the previous smirk.

"You disgust me," his father snapped.

Quickly recovering from both the physical and emotional blows, Roy straightened himself and turned his face to stare at a blank spot above the mantle. "I try," he answered passively.

"Why?" the Major General asked through exhausted breaths. "Why him? There are plenty of beautiful women out there who would kill to be on your arm. Is it just because you held power over him? It was _easy_ to get him to crawl into bed with you!"

The colonel's face snapped back to his father, onyx eyes ablaze. "That's not it!" he near-shouted. Roy was unsure whether or not he was more upset about the fact that his blonde lover had heard the jab . . . or because the Major General was closer to hitting the truth than he—or anyone else in the room—realized. "Edward gave me something that . . . that no _woman_ ever could!"

His father's lip curled. "_That_ much is obvious," he snarled, blue eyes darting over to rest on the Fullmetal for a second.

"That's not what I'm talking about, Father! Do you know how lucky you are? To have found someone who loves you just because that's who you are?" The Flame paused to look pointedly at his own mother, who was standing with one arm around Tamalynn, her other delicate hand covering her own mouth. Eyes snapping back to the major General, Roy pressed on: "Any woman that I ever let into my heart . . . into my _past_ . . . couldn't take it. They were horrified—_sickened_ by the very thought! _And they didn't know the half of it!_" He shouted the last part, every ounce of vehemence he could muster being expelled from his body in that sentence.

"But with Edward . . ." he continued quietly, eyes softening at the mere mention of his lover's name. "It was different. He _knew_. He knew my past and my sins . . . and he didn't care. He . . . he saw into the depths of my heart and soul . . . _and he loved me the same!_"

Roy, suddenly feeling his own nails cutting into his palms and drawing blood, relaxed his hands. But now, his fingers were becoming numb . . . and there was a pressure building in his chest, upsetting his stomach and making his head feel like it wanted to explode. What was it? He could feel it . . . he knew this feeling. It was good, wasn't it? God, what was it?

Expelled from his lungs (_his stomach, his heart_) . . . creeping up his throat . . . in his mouth, dancing across his teeth and palate . . . God, it was on the tip of his tongue now . . .

"I love him."

The confession hovered about the room for a time, then suddenly sprouted wings and darted out the nearest open window, leaving its shocked audience—including the man who had admitted it, apparently—behind to deal with it as they saw fit.

"W-what?"

The first person to break the silence with this one word was not, surprisingly, the Major General . . . but Edward. He took a tentative step towards the dark-haired man, his bright eyes shining hopefully. "You . . . love me?"

Roy turned slowly to face the blonde, licking his swollen lip as he struggled to make the words come. Had he just said that? Yes . . . it was his voice, he knew. But . . . he had said that he loved Ed. _Loved him_ . . .

But . . . did he?

After Maes, Roy had sworn that he'd never love anyone again . . . It was too hard and he never wanted to hurt like that again. But . . . somewhere along the way, Edward had fallen for him. And, through that love and that devotion, he had likewise burrowed his way into Roy's heart.

So . . . yes.

He did. He loved him . . . He _loved_ Edward Elric. Roy felt his battered face break out into a full-fledged smile and he opened his mouth to answer the blonde's question.

"_You_ . . ."

The word dropped like a lead weight through the happy air, crushing Roy's confession with the severity of hatred behind it. The colonel glanced back at his father, whose cobalt eyes were now fixed, _blazing_, on the Fullmetal Alchemist.

"You did this!" he shouted and began making his way towards the blonde.

However, it only took one _step_ in Ed's general direction for Roy to react. He sidestepped and, for the first time that day, swung back at his father. One bare fist connected solidly to the Major General's beefy jaw, stopping him in his tracks and sending him reeling to the right, while the other buried itself in his gut.

The room stopped breathing.

"I don't care how many times you hit me," the Flame hissed out through clenched teeth. "But you will not _touch_ him. Got it?"

Slowly recovering from the assault, the Major General straightened his stance. His breaths were coming in short, staccato cadences, and the spot on his face where Roy had hit him was already darkening into an angry red.

"I'm reporting you," he said quietly—_seethingly_. "You not only fraternized with and bedded one of your subordinates—and a _minor_, I might add—but you also hit an officer of higher rank than your own. You'll be court-martialed by the end of the week." Glancing over at his wife and daughter, he stated in a way that left no room for argument, "We're leaving. I refuse to stay under the same roof as a couple of _fags_ for one more night."

Roy bristled at the harsh words, but said nothing to invoke further wrath from the older man as he quickly turned away and started towards the secluded library.

"But Gerald, he's your _son_!" Mai Yao very nearly shrieked as the Major General neared the doors to the athenaeum.

Without stopping to look back at his wife, the man bellowed, "I _have_ no _son_!" and then slammed the heavy doors shut behind him. The Flame let out an infuriated huff of a breath, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides, knuckles white; he turned in the opposite direction as his father and stormed off through the dining room and into the kitchen.

Ed, without so much as a glance backwards, followed after his lover almost on instinct, catching the kitchen door before it swung shut and carefully closing it behind him. Mai Yao and Tamalynn, however, stayed rooted to the spot, dancing back and forth in rushed vacillation.

_(What'll you choose? Door number one? Or door number two?)_

Finally, after a good minute of panicked, headless clucking, the two women came to a silent decision, steeled themselves, and went after the Major General.

* * *

**God, that sucked so much ass! It felt rushed . . . and I'm sorry that it was so short—I mean, the review responses are longer—but, I do have a reason! I swear! I just knew that this part and the next couldn't be put together. The moods change and . . . they just didn't fit! Sorry again!**

**Next chapter is the last . . . finally . . . Please review (like I have to ask) and here are reviewer responses:**

**shylust:** Thanks a lot! (laughs) Glad to hear it!

**Sakuranbo Nayamu** (laughs) Sorry . . . No, your assumptions are probably right. Thanks for the review!

**Raven Cactuar:** (laughs) 'Caught with his pants down'? Couldn't have said it better myself . . . And it's okay if you didn't read it—another of my reviewers said that she didn't want to read it, either. That's okay! (smiles)

**Elion:** (laughs) Most definitely. Thanks for the review!

**InuYasha+Kagome:** Thanks for the review!

**fobroks21:** (laughs) Makes sense, I guess. Still very random . . . but it makes sense. Glad you liked the lemon enough to glomp me—unfortunately, I can't do any more than one lemon in a story this short. Sorry! Maybe in my Mpreg . . .

Thanks for the review!

**anmbcuconnfan** (shrugs) Something with his tongue . . . I didn't want anything too lude, so I didn't put specifics . . . plus, I'm poorly inexperienced when it comes to sex and didn't think it appropriate to go into details.

In other words, I would like to know what Roy did, too. (laughs) Thanks for the review!

**BlackFire-Dog:** That's okay. I forget what I write to you, too. And, yes, you do win the lottery . . . but, you have to split it, like, thirty ways with all the other people who guessed correctly! (laughs)

Thanks for the review!

**Anime#1Fan:** (laughs) All was revealed, was it not? Thanks for the review!

**eeerica:** Thanks!

**Yumiko Yoshihana:** A happy panda? Okay . . .

Oh, yes, I'd like the link, thank you very much! I love any and all phenomenal RoyEd fics! (throws hands up in jubilation) You think I'm the master! Woot! Oh, and I read your reviews to 'Visitor' after I finished reading it. (gives big hug) You said such nice things _and_ you plugged my work! I loves you muches for that!

(laughs) No, I didn't die, silly. Just been sorta busy lately. But, I thank you for caring!

Roy is a bad boy . . . and I think it would serve him right if it _were_ he who was pregnant in my Mpreg. Unfortunately, the plot won't allow for that . . .

But, if you want Roy pregnant, check out my friend Kara (Neo Diji's) work 'Unexpected Surprises' . . . Though it only has two chapters thus far, it's still very enjoyable.

Thanks for the review!

**GlorysGirl4ever:** Thank you for the review!

**Prozacfairy:** Who indeed . . . (laughs) Thanks for the review, hon!

**Kari:** 'Full Throttle'? (quirks curious eyebrow) I'm almost afraid to ask, but . . . what's that?

Thanks for the review!

**xX Konoha Ninja Xx** You and me both, sister! (laughs) Thanks for the review!

**magikphoenix:** (laughs) Sorry . . .? Hope this chappie helped. Thanks for the review!

**Worsel:** Thanks for the review!

**J-chan Hagane No Chibisan** (laughs) Glad you enjoyed it . . . And I probably will change it to M once the last chapter is out and read. Thanks for your concern . . . and review!

**inuyashabooklover5188** Glad you liked! And I'm happy that you liked Roy's mother as a torturer, even if you don't know why! (laughs)

Thanks for the review!

**Midori-Jester:** (scratches head) Maybe you see him in red and gold because he wears red all the time and his hair and eyes are golden . . . therefore, it's what you're comfortable seeing him in.

Understand? I hope so . . .

(laughs) Ah . . . if I see anymore tasteless HPxFMA crossovers, I think I'll scream. I mean, there are admittedly some good ones out there, but come on! Enough is enough! (huff)

Thanks for the review!

**In True Meanings:** Oops . . . Thanks for the review!

**Bunnicula:** Thank you for all your kind words! And I will most likely move it to M rating once the last chapter is out and read. Thanks for the review!

**Freak0515:** Wow. A death threat . . . Awesome! And I get cookies! Yay! Thanks for the review!

**Aemi-Kaishima** Hm . . . yet another threat of bodily harm for a speedy update . . . I'm glad that you guys like me! (laughs) Glad you enjoyed it! Thanks for the review!

**Beboots:** (laughs) You check for updates like I check for reviews! Thank you so much for your kind, ego-boosting words! (laughs)

**littlefiction:** Yay! You're back! Thanks so much for the . . . (counts) seven reviews! (laughs) I told my sister your favourite words and she was like, "'Cheese'? One of her favourite words is cheese?" Then she said that you were kinda weird . . . (laughs) Just kidding!

Thanks for the reviews!

**silver windflame:** Thank you!

**tohmaXshuichi:** (laughs) Die-ish-ness? I don't think that that's a word, but okay! Thanks for the review!

**hyperdude:** Sorry. Not Winry . . . Thanks, though! And thanks for the review!

**Neo Diji:** Hey Kara! Glad you're back! Heh . . . seems like you had a stressful Christmas. Are your mom and sister okay? And what about Oscar? I can't believe that he actually at tinsel . . . (suddenly remembers how her dog ate beer cans, crawfish shells, and moth balls) Actually, yeah, I can . . .

I hope everyone is all right, anyway!

Well, I'm glad that you've always liked Roy's dad . . . though, I don't know how you feel know . . . Yes, you told me about Stardust—and, yes, I am _all_ of those things! (laughs) Especially friend! (smiles) And I do hope that inspiration strikes you to continuing your Mpreg—Roy pregnant is so good!

I'm sorry that Santa didn't bring you either of the happy couple—though, if you think about it, if he brought you one, then they would both be sad because they would be separated. And we can't have that!

Next review!

(giggles) Thanks a lot! Glad you liked it! And I do understand your aversion to the F word . . . I don't use it myself when speaking (unless I'm very, very, very, _very_ upset and not around my parents—but, no, definitely not in reference to sex), only in writing—but I had the feeling that Roy _would _use it (just because they were both caught up in the moment) . . . so that's what I put. I'm sorry . . .

As you can see from above, no, I did not tease you—it's exactly like everyone guessed! (laughs) And it was a very good observation with the clothes and stuff. You're actually the only one to say something . . . I made Ed discard clothes in such a manner because I didn't know how else to get the Major General upstairs . . . I hope that this chapter cleared that up for you! (smiles)

(laughs) I didn't take it as a flame, so don't worry—I don't (and could never) hate you. Thanks for both reviews! Hope you had a wonderful Christmas and New Year's!

Bye Kara!

**new moongirl:** (laughs) Yep, they did! Thanks for the review!

**Jai:** I can not thank you enough for telling me about phoenixalchemist's story . . . I probably wouldn't have known otherwise. I didn't mention up above, but I reported the abuse and I hope that her account gets deleted . . . But I'm just getting mad again. (sigh)

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

**dragon shadows:** (laughs) The fingertip rule states that when standing up and arms are dangling straight at your sides, if your fingertips go past the hem of the skirt, it is too short. The finger tip rule! Hope that helps; if not, I can try to explain better next time! (smiles)

(scratches head) I guess that that makes sense . . . if I think about it really hard. (thinks hard, gets headache, gives up, shrugs)

(laughs) We used to save the cookies just for that. I mean, we'd eat most of them . . . but, if we didn't eat some boxes, we'd put them in the freezer or cabinet and save them for our GS cookie house contest. Didn't I mention that? Yeah: we'd only make the house for the yearly Christmas cookie house contest. Though, I _am_ glad that we never tried to eat it . . .

We probably all would have died.

It's hot? How hot? (remembers you live in Australia) Is it hot all year around there? Right now, it's a simply divine 73 degrees here in southern Louisiana . . . (huff) By the time it gets cold, it'll be time to get hot again. I hate it here . . .

So, Roy was sixteen in the war . . . and because he had to join the military before that . . . that means that he himself was fairly young when he became a state alchemist. At the _most_ he was fifteen . . . Interesting. He certainly didn't look it, lucky bastard. (laughs) No, I don't think that Ed has much of a prayer . . .

Thanks for the review!

**Daga:** (laughs) Sorry. Love you, too . . .

Oh . . . a cookie . . . (reaches for cookie) Wait . . . a bribe! (huff) What do you take me for? A whore!

(storms away) . . . (comes back steals cookie) Hope you liked this chapter . . . and happy New Year. Thanks for the review!

**Different Child:** That's okay, hon. If bad things are happening, then don't feel the need to come on and review. And I don't know if I'm the person you'd want to tell, but if you need someone to talk to, I'm always here! (smiles)

Thanks for the review and I hope you feel better . . .

**imyourvillian:** (laughs) Glad you liked it! Yes, I suppose that you could compare it to meeting your girlfriend's father . . . Although, I wouldn't know what that's like . . . I wouldn't know what it's like to meet my boyfriend's father, either. I'm just so sad!

(scratches head) Your bio doesn't say anything and I was just wondering if you're a guy or a girl. (holds up hands defensively) You don't have to answer if you don't want to! I was just curious—I like to know my reviewers, after all . . .

Shutting up now . . . Next review!

(laughs) Glad you enjoyed it so much! And, for the thousandth time for this chapter, I am _sorry_ that I made such an evil cliffhanger . . .

Oh well . . . y'all will get over it. Thanks for the reviews!

**Buried Fairy Tale:** Don't feel the need to apologize, hon. If you were out of town, then there was no getting around it—I'm just glad that you were finally able to get on and read the new chappies! And yes, I had a great holiday and I hope that yours was good, too!

Glad you like Roy's father better now and, once again, I'm sorry for the evil cliffhanger. (laughs) I don't know _why_ I made his mom an interrogator . . . it just seemed like a good idea . . . (shrugs)

Thanks for the two reviews!

**Trespasser1307:** Thanks a bunch for the vote of confidence! And don't sweat not reviewing earlier—as long as you get to do it eventually, I don't mind! Hope the storms clear up and a very Happy Belated New Year's to you, too!

Thanks for the review!


	11. Deeper Wounds

**Okay . . . I know I said that this was gonna be the last chapter, but . . . I've been sick as a dog these past few days (plus, I was baby-sitting . . . a dog XD) and my brain just didn't want to write any more than this. My roommate told me that it's just some sort of subconscious need to keep the story going—stupid almost-psychology minor . . .**

**Anyhoo, here's the second to last chapter. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Um . . . (insert witty disclaimer here)

* * *

**

**Chapter XI: Deeper Wounds**

"Ow, ow, ow, _ow!_"

"Oh, hold still you big baby . . . lemme look."

Edward held his lover's chin tightly in his flesh hand, his features contorting sympathetically as he inspected the damage. The entire left side of Roy's face was darkening into bruises and his eye was already swelling shut; while the right side appeared to have suffered far less injury, there was still one large, particularly nasty-looking bruise blossoming along the pale cheekbone.

As Ed tilted Roy's head to one side, trying to get a better look at the new mark, the man winced, letting out a string of curses that were almost as colourful as his bashed-up face, and smacked the teen's hand away. Quickly hiding the hurt expression that had crept onto his face, the blonde huffed, bringing his hands down to rest on his hips, and offered his lover a concerned look. "Man . . . he really did a number on you. Smashed up your face pretty bad."

Roy, who was now seated at the large butcher-block table in the centre of his kitchen, clutching a clear glass filled to the brim with Apricot brandy in his hand—which, Ed noted, was starting to bruise around the knuckles—looked over at him and stated testily, "Really Ed? I couldn't tell."

The Fullmetal made a discontented tut-tutting sound and continued on as if the colonel had said nothing, "It's a pity, really . . ."

"What is?" Roy sighed out, going back to gingerly nursing his drink.

"Well, your face was my favourite part about you." Ed folded his arms across his chest and leant down to rest his torso on the table, observing his lover out of the corner of one golden eye. "Now, c'mon . . . how am I supposed to make love to someone with a face like_ that_?" As if to press his playful point, he then presented his automail arm, letting the bruised man use it as a makeshift mirror.

Roy regarded his distorted visage in the irregular, reflective surface of his lover's arm for a short time, and then looked away with a small shrug. "I do it all the time."

Edward scoffed at the rather lame insult and pulled his arm back, straightening his stance as Roy quickly polished off the last of his drink. However, when the dark-haired man went to pour himself another one, Ed reached over and put his hand on top of the glass. "You've already had two. You're not gonna get drunk in this house tonight, mister."

Roy scowled up at the blonde, but didn't argue as he worked the man's fingers away from his glass and took it away from him. "Course not . . . then, I'd be ugly, unemployed, _and_ munted. Why don't you just dump me?"

Ed glared at him for a second, before sighing and rolling his eyes up in innocent consideration. "That might not be such a bad idea . . ." he said after a time, ignoring the look of annoyance Roy flashed at him. Finally, he shrugged and said, "Nah . . . it'd be too much trouble to break in a new boyfriend. I think I'll keep you."

"You're a prince," stated Roy facetiously.

"Love you, too."

The colonel's eyes shifted up to Edward's face, seriousness and even something that resembled fear engrained in the dark retinas, and the blonde felt his smile—and his resolve, for that matter—falter. Lowering his gaze to the floor, Ed walked the empty glass over to the sink and washed it out, making sure the smell of alcohol was completely gone before he began to wipe it dry.

Replacing the glass in its appropriate cabinet, the blonde then turned around and leant his back heavily against the counter, crossing his arms over his narrow chest. "Roy . . ." he said to his lover. The colonel noticed that the alchemist's gaze was continuously shifting _around_ him, but never actually settling on him. "Did you mean what you . . . I mean, were you . . . serious? About . . . what you said?"

The Flame gazed at the younger man for a second, noting the light blush that was tingeing his tanned cheeks and the bridge of his nose, before sighing and stretching his arm out in Ed's direction. "Come here," he said softly.

The blonde blinked, admittedly surprised at how warm and tender Roy had sounded just then, but padded over and took his lover's hand without protest. Shifting around in his seat until he was facing Ed, the colonel then gently steered the teen into his lap and pulled him into an ardent embrace.

"Edward," he said, his warm breath tickling the blonde's ear. "I have never meant _anything_ more . . . than when I said that I loved you. And . . . just so you know . . ." Roy pulled back slightly, taking Ed's chin in his hand and lifting it to where the boy was looking him square in the eye. "You . . . you were _never_ second. I mean . . . yes, I still love . . . _him_—and, you're right: there's nothing that you or anyone else can do to change that, but . . . I wanted you to know . . . And, I don't even know if it was _bothering _you, but . . . I wanted to tell you that . . . you weren't . . . his replacement."

Ed silently gasped. Though he tried to hide it as quickly as he could, his surprise must have shown on his face, for Roy frowned suddenly and a dark look came over his eyes. "You could never be," the colonel said, his voice almost scolding—as if Edward should have known better than to think such a thing. "You both, as ridiculously _sappy_ as it sounds, hold a different place in my heart. You could never replace Maes . . . and he couldn't replace you. Got it?"

The blonde nodded dumbly, his stomach dropping out and his whole body going slack with relief. Closing his golden eyes and falling forward, he wrapped his arms tightly around his lover's neck and pulled him into an awkward hug. "Thanks," Ed muttered absently into the crook of his own flesh elbow, feeling Roy's arms wrap around him to return the gesture. "I needed that."

There was a quiet pause in which the two alchemists simply held one another, before Roy sighed and asked, "You were worried about that, weren't you?"

Yes.

Ever since Tamalynn had told him how her brother felt about the deceased brigadier general, it was that thought that had been plaguing his mind, pecking away at the already unstable wall that surrounded the dam of their relationship like a scavenging raptor. It was _that_ that had weakened his resolve concerning the two of them. Even Edward's confession of love—first to himself and then to Roy—wasn't enough to completely chase away the hovering phantasm of doubt.

But now . . . it seemed unimportant.

If Roy Mustang, the pompous ass of a Flame Alchemist, put his family, life, and—most importantly—his _career_ on the line for him, then Ed had to believe him when he admitted that it was out of love. If he, Edward, didn't have faith in the man that _he_ truly loved, then . . . what else was there?

The blonde moved back to look up at his lover, his arms still draped around the colonel's neck. "Kiss me," he quietly demanded.

Roy quirked an amused eyebrow. "Why?"

The Fullmetal let out a soft chuckle and replied, "Because your father found out about us in the most embarrassingly horrible of ways and because your mother and sister witnessed it, too. Because, both of us will most likely lose our jobs and you're gonna be court-martialed. Because we, the infamous Fullmetal and Flame Alchemists, are about to be outed to the _entire_ Amestris military." Edward paused a moment, watching the colonel's frown slowly deepen with each truthful realization; the blonde sighed and smiled sadly.

"Because I need it."

Roy regarded his young lover for a moment, a smile mirroring Ed's own gradually making its way onto his face; with a small expulsion of warm breath that tickled his cheeks and made his blonde bangs dance, the dark-haired man leant forward to comply, pressing his lips against the Fullmetal's.

However, when Ed went to deepen the kiss, Roy suddenly flinched and pulled back with an "Ow," reaching up to tend to his battered cheek. The blonde cringed sympathetically.

"Hold on," he told the older alchemist, sliding off of his lap and making his way over to the icebox.

Roy turned back to where he was sitting facing the table, but continued to watched the boy with mild curiosity as he tipped himself over the side of the box, his head, arms, and torso disappearing into the cool, white brume. He huffed and rubbed his face, complaining that he was sure that his father had knocked one of his teeth loose; as expected, Edward's muffled response to this was to reason that as long as it was one of the back ones, then he should be all right. "Gee, thanks," the Flame muttered sarcastically, watching as the elder Elric finally extracted himself from icebox, turning away and letting the door fall shut with a _thud_.

One of Fosco's good, _large_ steaks was now balanced precariously on his automail palm.

"And just what do you plan to do with that?" Roy asked as the blonde came back over, sounding as though he didn't entirely want to know the answer.

"You're gonna put it on your face," Ed replied, sounding as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Seeing the dual looks of incredulity and disgust cross his lover's features, Edward chuckled and explained. "Don't worry. Our teacher's husband is a butcher. Whenever we'd come in from training, sporting some kind of new, painful welt, Teacher would just make him cut off a piece of meat and she'd slap it on us. Trust me, it helps."

Eyeing the raw beef, the skepticism remained plastered on Roy's bruised face . . . until he forcefully swallowed, that is. Then, it was hurriedly replaced with an almost comical look of horror. As the skin beneath all the purple marks went white, Ed cocked his head to one side, very much resembling a parakeet looking at itself in a mirror. The Flame pursed his lips and said slowly, "You know that tooth?"

Edward nodded, his eyes narrowing and his brows meeting together in confusion.

"Yeah . . . I just swallowed it."

There was a short moment of silence in the Mustang-Elric kitchen, before the room suddenly exploded with the sound of sheer, unbridled amusement at another's expense. Roy scowled at his boyfriend, who was dangerously close to letting the raw steak slip from his hand and go tumbling to the floor, as he unabashedly cackled at him. "You . . . you should . . ." he managed to choke out between gales of laughter, ". . . sleep under your pillow tonight. Maybe . . . you'll crap out a quarter!"

Roy rolled his eyes and dryly responded, "I should've let my dad kill you."

"Oh, come on," Ed said rather cheerfully once he had recovered from his fit and had regained his composure. "You know it was funny, you humourless bastard."

The dark-haired alchemist just grunted his irritation.

With a sigh and a slight roll of his golden orbs, Edward once again took up his position in his lover's lap. Roy, despite being upset with him, instinctively wrapped his arms around the blonde's waist, pulling him as close to his body as he could manage.

"Look up," Ed told him with a small smirk. The Flame scowled, but reluctantly complied with the demand, huffing as he tilted his head back. Placing the steak on the left side of his lover's face, the Fullmetal smiled forlornly. "You need to talk to him, Roy. If you don't get this straightened out . . . we could be in some deep shit."

"Ed, you don't know my father. He's . . . stubborn," admitted the colonel, wincing as the slab of cold meat was pressed against his cheek. At this, Edward rolled his eyes and mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like "pot"—knowing that his lover was oh-so cryptically referring to the old adage, Roy likewise gave his coal black eyes a theatric spin heavenwards and said, "It runs in the family, I suppose. Stubbornness is . . . a Mustang ethos . . ."

The blonde teen chuckled and went to respond to this, but stopped when he suddenly heard loud voices—_arguing_ voices—from just outside the kitchen door. Both men turned their heads in the direction of the quibbling, Roy now having to hold the steak against his face to keep it from sliding off, and watched in a mixture of confusion, amusement, and terror as Mai Yao and Tamalynn pushed/dragged the sputtering, enraged Major General into the kitchen.

Ed hurled himself out of Roy's lap.

Suddenly, the older man's eyes found his son's . . . and there was a moment where time stood still. It was as if Chronos himself had stepped off Olympus and interrupted the flow of nonspatial continuum within the confines of the kitchen. The two men grew still as their eyes met, Edward stayed anchored to the cold tile floor where he had landed square on his butt, and Mai Yao and Tamalynn stilled and silenced their yelling, watching the diaphanous sparks of vehemence dart back and forth between the father and son. And then, a mere three seconds later—though it seemed like hours—there was an imaginative sound of suction as the time flow was rent . . . and everyone began moving at once. The Major General spun around fiercely and the two female Mustangs were forced to grapple with his uniform and dig their heels in to keep him from fully escaping; at the same time, Roy stood, throwing a withering look over his shoulder at the retreating officer, and attempted to make his escape through the servant's entrance. _Attempted_ being the operative word. 

As soon as his boyfriend had stood up, Ed had come out of his little time warp stupor and had sprung into action. He didn't know whether or not Roy was going to run or try to pummel the man—the blonde _did_ know that he wanted neither and promptly flung his arms around the colonel's waist.

"Edward, let go of me!" Roy shouted as he came to a stumbling halt.

"No!" Ed screamed back in a most childish manner, tightening his hold as the Flame attempted to pry him off. Mai Yao and her daughter had somehow managed to stop the fuming Major General from fleeing the scene and the woman was now screaming at her husband in Xingese. Everyone was shouting.

The kitchen was in an absolute uproar.

"You can't keep running away from this, you coward!"

"Daddy, you have to talk to Brother!"

"_Xi dai no!_"

"I am _not_ running away, you pipsqueak!"

"_Xu dai vernai xus takasa, Gerald!_"

"_Xi dai no!_"

"I am _not_ a pipsqueak! And if that's so, then wuddaya call this?"

"Daddy!"

"_All right! That's enough!_"

It was Mai Yao who had yelled this last part, the sheer intensity of the cry bringing all motion in the small room to a stand-still. The tiny woman was glaring daggers at her husband, her silken blouse rumpled and her bun coming unraveled, cascading strands of long, black hair down her back. "Now, I have had just about enough of this, Gerald Mustang! You are going to sit down right here it this chair and you are going to talk to your son, if it's the last thing you do! And believe me, if you refuse it _will_ be the last thing you do!"

The Major General looked slightly shocked at this outburst for a moment, but then managed to screw up his bruised face into an expression of rage. "Now, see here—"

"Oh, shut up, you pompous windbag," said Mai Yao disdainfully, silencing the man. He looked ready to explode, his face purple and swelling, his cobalt eyes wide in surprise and offense, and a huge vein pulsating just below the skin of his neck; however, the Major General said nothing more to his wife—nor anyone else in the room—and merely dropped himself unceremoniously into one of the chairs adjacent to Roy's own.

Having effectively castrated her husband, Mai Yao then turned her harpy-like eyes to her son, who very nearly flinched at the quiet, harsh tone she took with him. "Royce Edan Mustang, you will _talk_ to your father."

"I have nothing to say to him, Mother," growled the colonel. "After all, I'm not his—"

"Don't!" she snapped, cutting him off. "I refuse to have two people that I love fighting with one another. I _refuse_ to spend another six years not being able to see my son because you two have something to prove! Not again!"

Ed felt Roy wince at the cutting emotional force behind the words. But then, his body relaxed and his hands fell away from the blondes arms, defeated.

He was accepting his fate.

Nodding sharply to him, Mai Yao then looked down at the younger alchemist and offered him a tired, but reassuring smile. "Come, Edward," she said softly, turning towards the kitchen door and motioning for him to follow. Ed nodded imperceptibly and reluctantly let his arms slip away from his lover's waist. Mai Yao and Tamalynn passed through the threshold into the dining room, letting the door gently swing shut behind them. As Ed approached the door, he abruptly stopped, an obscure look overtaking his face, and turned to face the Major General.

"If you hurt him," the blonde stated caustically, his golden fringe obstructing the eldest Mustang's view of his eyes, "I swear I will _kill_ you."

And with that, he left.

After a moment of flabbergasted silence, the Major General turned warily to his son and huffed. "Protective little twit, isn't he?"

Roy gazed out of the corner of his good eye at the man for a moment, before shrugging and dipping down to retrieve the steak that had slipped from his face is his struggle with said twit. "He's . . . my knight in shining automail," said the Flame mirthlessly as he straightened and dumped the cut of meat onto the table.

As Roy turned away, heading to the cabinet to retrieve the glass that Edward had earlier taken away from him, a tense silence fell between the two men. Neither wanted to discuss what had happened only ten minutes ago in the living room—and neither wanted to even _think_ about the event upstairs which had sparked that little scuffle.

The Major General for the obvious reasons. And Roy because . . . well, because the entire episode was his fault. If he hadn't tried so fervently to convince Ed to make love to him when the blonde knew that something would go wrong . . .

Murphy was a cruel son-of-a-bitch.

The Flame opened the cabinet and picked out the still-damp tumbler, suddenly noticing how the beads of moisture stayed caught in the angular rivulets of the Vandyke-coloured glass. "How could you do this to me?" came his father's questioning voice, low and rumbling like a distant thunderstorm.

On second thought, better make it two glasses.

* * *

Ed stared out of one of the front windows from his spot on the comfortable, white sofa, watching as two cardinals happily darted back and forth in the tree just outside, piping shrilly to one another as they danced around the nest they were constructing. The blonde somehow knew that cardinals were one of the few birds that, once they found a mate, they stayed partners for life; it made him happy for some reason to think that the pair had chosen he and Roy's yard to nest in. 

Maybe it was some sort of sign . . .

As the two redbirds flitted away from the Mustang yard, Edward let out a tranquil sigh. "Sounds like it's going pretty well."

Mai Yao nodded serenely at him from her armchair, while Tamalynn remained silent on the floor. The Fullmetal let his golden eyes dart to and fro betwixt the two of them for a second, before letting his gaze drift back out the window, a light blush colouring his cheeks. Neither of the two women had said one word to him since they had come back home, save for the soft-spoken order that Mai Yao had given to follow her from the kitchen not ten minutes ago.

He couldn't say that he blamed them. After what they had walked in on . . . what they'd seen Roy doing . . .

An involuntary shudder ran through him as he realized that, unless he attempted to explain himself and apologize for permanently scarring their retinas, Tamalynn and Mai Yao might never speak to him again.

"Um . . . Mrs. Mustang? Tamalynn?" Even though he was staring determinedly at the toes of his boots, he could feel the women look up at him. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he pressed forward as smoothly as he could. "I . . . um, I'm sorry for . . . I mean, we never . . . we never meant for . . . for you to—" He stopped to chew on his bottom lip uncertainly, still not able to look either of the women in the eye. "And . . . if you never wanted to talk to me again . . . I'd underst—"

"Congratulations."

The elder Elric nearly got whiplash as he jerked his head up to stare, wide-eyed, at Tamalynn. The young woman was seated on the floor in front of another couch, her knees pulled up to her chest, long arms wrapped around them to keep them in place. She was looking in his direction, her long, ebony fringe hiding a large portion of her pale face—but not enough for Ed to see that she was smiling peacefully.

"Uh . . . huh?"

"Congratulations," she repeated, sweeping her bangs behind her ear. "You're the only person who Brother actually _hit_ Daddy over. Told you he cares about you."

Edward was . . . _surprised_, to say the least, by this turn of events and could do nothing but sputter incoherently and blink in shock, like some POW signaling in Morse code. "You . . . you mean . . . you . . . wha? Huh? I don't . . ."

"Edward, dear," Mai Yao finally spoke up, straightening in her seat a tad. "Let me put your mind at ease. You see, after his grandmother—Gerald's mother—taught Roy about alchemy—"

"That's who he learned it from?" Ed interjected, unable to stop himself. He had always been curious who had introduced his lover to the spagyric science—especially the more explosive part; the part that made him the Flame Alchemist—but had just never gotten around to asking the man himself.

If Mai Yao was irritated at the blonde's interruption, she gave absolutely no indication. "Oh, yes," she replied with a nod. "My people don't study it as a violent method—merely for medical purposes. We call it Pharmacy. Seeing as Roy was a _normal_ little boy, he wanted something with more . . . immediate results, let's say. Edana—that's his grandmother—not only introduced your concept of alchemy to him, which was far more interesting that any sort of medicinal alchemy my father might have taught him, but when he told her that he was leaving to join the military as a state alchemist, she gave him his first pair of pyrotex gloves."

"Wow," was all Ed could say. He made a mental note to himself to invite Mai Yao and Tamalynn over more often. He'd gotten more information on Roy out of them in the past week than he'd gotten from the Flame himself in the six years they'd known each other. "Oh—I'm terribly sorry for interrupting you! Please, continue with what you were saying. You were . . . trying to set my mind at ease?" he said helpfully.

Mai Yao chuckled slightly and shook her head. "I was just going to tell you that, after that horrible woman taught him that fire alchemy that she—and my son, apparently—are both so well-known for . . . he nearly set fire to our entire town."

Ed stared. He wasn't certain whether or not he was supposed to be shocked or amused by this statement, so he decided to simply keep his face blank.

"All I'm saying is, Edward . . . after that, there's really nothing that Roy can do to get me upset." She smiled at him brightly, the corners of her eyes and mouth crinkling slightly with the gesture. "Especially if it's with someone as delightful as you."

The blonde chuckled sheepishly and reached up to scratch at the base of his braid. Of all the things he expected to come out of this conversation . . . _this_ was not one of them. The warm smile remained emblazoned on her thin lips for a short minute more, before slipping away as she turned her attention back to the kitchen door. "I worry about him," she muttered softly.

Letting his hand drop back to his lap, Edward regarded the woman for a few moments, before smile assuredly and stating, "You shouldn't be worried about Roy. He can take care of himself."

"I know," she admitted slowly, after a time. "But it wasn't he who I was worried about."

The blonde blinked. "You mean the Major General?" She inclined her head slightly to signify an affirmative and Ed heard himself snort. "No offense, but I think _he_ can take care of himself, as well."

Tamalynn suddenly pushed herself up off the floor and migrated over to the couch that the blonde was seated on; elbowing him in the side softly, she whispered, "That's not what Momma means."

"Huh?"

"What Tamalynn is trying to say, Edward," Mai Yao stated, some unknown emotion betrayed in her voice, "is that . . . it's not his body that I'm worried about . . . It's his mentality." The Xing woman paused for a moment, her eyes glazing over . . . as if she was seeing a memory or simply looking into another realm . . . "Did Roy ever tell you about his grandfather?"

Ed blinked, yet again. Though, this time, it was more to accompany the small frown that split his face than to show surprise.

No. He hadn't.

It was a particularly hot-button issue between the two of them: family. Despite the fact that Roy seemed to know all about his family—from his failed attempt at human transmutation, to his little brother, who had just gotten his body back; from his burnt down house to the Rockbells—his neighbors, so close they almost _were_ family. Hell, he even knew about his father, bastard, may he burn in hell . . .

Roy knew, literally, _everything_ there was to know about his lover's family.

In complete antithesis to that . . . Edward knew absolutely _nothing_ about the Flame's. The closest thing the blonde had ever seen to a family around Roy were his subordinates . . . He hadn't even known that the man had had a sister until that fateful call just one week ago.

He shook his head. "No . . ."

Mai Yao took a deep, almost cleansing breath and then said, "Gerald and his father . . . got into a fight when Gerald was younger—not much younger than Roy, in fact. I was never quite sure what the argument was about . . . but, Tremain—his father—punished Gerald . . . and Gerald told him that he hated him . . ."

This woman, this pillar of strength in the Mustang herd—whose job it had been to torture prisoners for information—had to stop . . . and bit down on her lip to keep herself from crying. Ed's jaw dropped.

Blinking fiercely, Mai Yao continued: "He told Tremain that he _hated_ him. And, well . . ."

Seeing her mother in distress, Tamalynn reluctantly took over. "Granda' . . . took his own life . . . later that night."

The Elric whipped around so fast he was sure that his braid had caught the young woman in the face. "W-what?"

Tamalynn just nodded morosely, averting her onyx eyes to the coffee table before her. Ed, however, was too lost in his own thoughts to care where she was looking.

_It all makes sense now_, he thought to himself. _Mai Yao's terrified that . . . that what happened with the Major General's dad is gonna repeat itself now. She's not gonna _say_ it . . . but I'll bet that that's the real reason she's forcing those two to work it out. I wonder . . . I wonder if she knows that Roy tried to . . .?_

Most likely not; however, Ed wouldn't put it past her.

Roy had said it himself: she was a specialist at obtaining information that didn't necessarily want to be revealed.

The blonde shook his head slightly and mumbled, "I'm sorry, I didn't know . . ."

A heavy, funereal air descended upon the living room, pressing heavily upon the shoulders of the living. After several long minutes, Ed shivered and, desperate to change the subject, said to Mai Yao, "Um . . . I just remembered something that you said, ma'am."

He looked up to find that the woman's slightly red-rimmed eyes were now focused kindly on him, waiting for his question. "Back there in the kitchen . . ." he ventured. "Something about . . . spending six years not being able to see Roy? What was that about?"

Anything involving not spending time with her son for the equivalent of six years couldn't have been much better than the path they were previously traveling . . . but. Ed had to admit that it was a change of pace. However slight.

Plus, he was insatiably curious.

Tamalynn, noticing a small shift in Mai Yao's face, once again flawlessly stepped in to take her mother's place in explaining things to him. "See, Ed," she stated, leaning in conspiratorially close. "Years ago, Daddy _forced_ Roy into joining the military. Brother didn't want to join, but Daddy told him that he had no choice. Brother, in turn, told Daddy that, if he was forced into duty, not only would he join as a state alchemist—which Father hates, by the way—"

"Hates?" questioned the Fullmetal, his eyebrows arching. "Why?"

The dark-haired girl shrugged and said, "I think it's just because his mother could do alchemy and he never learned. But anyway, Brother told him that, not only would he join as a state alchemist, but he would also never talk to the family again."

The frown that had sprouted on Edward's lips deepened and his brow furrowed as he asked, "But the Major General made him join anyway . . ."

"Exactly," said Tamalynn with a small nod. "That's about all there is to it. Brother kept that promise for nearly six years—never called, wrote, visited, nothing . . . We only heard stories about a Colonel Mustang—the Flame Alchemist—when Amestris was at war with Ishbal. We knew that was him . . . They called him a hero."

Ed almost laughed. If Tamalynn and Mai Yao could only see what he saw . . . sheets soaked in tears and cold sweat, screams that peeled paint from walls in the middle of the night, deadened, haunted eyes that saw right past him, staring into a memory . . .

If they could only see the scars that would never heal . . . then they would have the decency not to call Roy a _hero_.

He sighed and turned away; considering how badly that change of subject had gone, Edward wondered if he should attempt it one more time, or if he should just let the silence of the room talk.

However, after only three minutes, the Fullmetal's nerves had had enough.

"Um, I'm . . . curious," he said to no one in particular. "I'd say it's fairly obvious that Roy and I weren't . . . _expecting_ you guys to be home this early. We figured that you'd be gone for a few hours at the least. I'm wondering . . . why did you come back so early?"

He looked over at Mai Yao expectantly; however, the woman appeared to have no answer for him . . . at least, no _verbal_ answer. She gazed at him placidly for a long moment, then let her black eyes swivel over to rest on the daughter seated next to him. "Tamalynn? You want to take that question, as well?"

The blonde's gold orbs traveled to the girl, also; she had suddenly averted her gaze to her own lap and was fidgeting with the sleeve of her suede jacket. From the tone Mai Yao had taken to the almost ashamed expression the girl now had on her face, it only took a fraction of a second for realization to hit Ed square between the eyes.

"You _told_ him?"

* * *

**Obee-kaybee . . . God, I hope that all that last part made sense. What time is it? Holy crap! 4:40 in the morning? (sighs/yawns) I'm going beddy-bye . . . Hope y'all liked and please review! If anything needs clearing up, just ask. Next chapter will _definitely_ be the last one! Promise!**

**Oh, and one of my reviewers was nice enough to point out that fanfiction. net won't allow personal review responses anymore, bastards. So . . . I'd better make this quick. Just to anonymous reviewers who asked questions and such, kay?**

**Pickles:** (laughs) I showed this review to my friend and she thought you were on crack! (laughs) Thanks for the review!

**E.T.: **Heh . . . this sorta cancels out your review, doesn't it? Anyhoo, thanks for telling me . . . though, before, I could have claimed ignorance. Now, I'm just being deviant . . .

Thanks!

**Yumiko Yoshihana:** Thanks for the site. I checked it out—it's nifty! And I would be honoured if you told her about my stories! (smiles) That's good about your failed history A . . . though, kinda bad about the guy losing your test.

Thanks for the review!

Oh, by the way . . . where's that review for 'Sympathy for the Devil' on fictionpress, hm? (glares) Just kidding. Doesn't matter, really. Bye!

**Not bad—that certainly cut down on space. So . . . talk to y'all later! Bye!**


	12. Acceptance

**All right. This is gonna be short, sweet, and an incredibly quick post. I'm _so_ ready to end this thing . . . plus, I sorta wanted to wipe away the bad taste of the last chapter. That was definitely _not_ my best and I know it, I'm sorry. (begs forgiveness)**

**So, here y'all are. The last chapter. Tada!**

**Disclaimer: I would trade my soul for a portion of FMA, but Hiromu Arakawa isn't accepting my offer.

* * *

**

**Chapter XII: Acceptance**

Roy Mustang stared down determinedly at the empty glass on the table before him, unable to bring his onyx eyes to look anywhere else. The Major General sat not a foot away, doing pretty much the same exact same thing. Neither one had spoken to each other.

Harpocrates would have been proud.

The Flame knew that his mother had forced the two men to sit together and work everything out—and that, until either of them attempted it, she and the others would inevitably stay hovering just outside the door; however, if the homophobic Amestris officer wasn't going to attempt to talk, then Roy certainly wasn't going to bust his back bending over backwards to make it happen . . .

Let his father rot for all he cared. He could wait. Heaven knew he could wait. However, why heaven, Jannah, Paradise, Swarga loka, or whatever other name it had, had any concern over how much patience the sacrilegious colonel had was a mystery to him.

Possibly because he was still sobre.

"You've killed people."

The comment had come out of nowhere, slashing through the delicate membrane of silence that the two men had built up around themselves like a razor against the wrist. The blade cut deep, sending nerves, anger, fear, and a hundred other emotions spilling out onto the table and floor around them like life plasma. The Major General looked up at his son, malcontent apparent in his blue-green eyes—his son, who looked just as shocked to hear the words escape his own, bruised lips.

The older man glowered at Roy for a short time, the bruise on his left cheek already rimmed in blackish-purple. Finally, his moustache twitched in annoyance—giving Roy the distinct impression that a mouse had crawled up and attached itself to the Major General's upper lip while the man was asleep—and he all to expectedly answered, "So have you."

He didn't even blink as the accusation left his mouth.

Well, not accusation, really—more like a cold, hard fact. He spat it out upon the table to mix with the bleeding silence and stared back at the young colonel, vehemence radiating from his eyes.

The Flame sighed exhaustedly. He knew that his father was ready to dig in his heels and go down fighting—or maybe the more appropriate expression would be to 'go down in a blaze of glory.' But, frankly, the alchemist had been running himself ragged the past week, what with preparing for the herd's near-unexpected arrival, trying to keep the Major General from discovering he and Edward's relationship, plus the unforeseen task of dealing with his long-deceased best friend/love interest coming into the picture and screwing with he and Ed's emotions.

It had been a long, draining week . . . and he was too damn tired to get into a pissing match with his stubborn father now.

"I know," Roy admitted in a hollow, defeated sort of voice, wincing as he heard the words. He'd said and heard them before . . . but that didn't make it any easier. He had _murdered_ people and had been honoured for it with a badge, a steady paycheck, subordinates, and an office in Central. How many lives had paid for that?

What the hell type of equivalency was that?

"I know," he repeated quietly, gently shaking his head from side to side. "The difference is . . . I don't pretend that I haven't. I don't . . . try to convince people that I never sinned . . . that I never _failed_. I'm not the one at this table who _pretends_ as though he doesn't have automail."

Even in his slightly dysphoric state, Roy felt just a hint of satisfaction at the decidedly scandalized look that crossed his father's quickly paling face. "H-how . . ." he stammered. "How did you . . .?"

Looking back down at his glass, the dark-haired alchemist allowed a small chuckle to escape the confines of his throat. "It's funny . . ." he explained placidly. "I really didn't notice when I was a kid. I mean . . . you were away a lot; Tamalynn and I didn't get to see you very often . . . so, I guess that it was an easy secret for you to keep. It's funny," Roy slowly repeated, a grin creeping onto his face. "I only realized what you had been hiding . . . after I got Edward as a subordinate. It only took a few months before I came to recognize . . . to _distinguish_ his footfalls as they approached my office. It was subtle, but I noticed . . . your walks were the same."

The Major General stared at him, jaw slack and one eye twitching uncontrollably; after nearly a minute of this sideshow-worthy performance, he finally hacked forth a noncommittal cough and gave the subject a delicate nudge, causing it to shift direction slightly. It, nonetheless, stayed on the right course.

"Why . . . him?" he asked, stretching the question in the middle and biting off the end.

His stoic mask not slipping an inch, Roy carefully sidestepped and rerouted the inquiry. "Why mom?"

The Major General, obviously not prepared for this, sputtered and coughed like an old car engine attempting to turn over; he swelled up indignantly, turned five shades of red, and made a sound like air being let out of a wet balloon . . . before suddenly going very still, like he had just reached the end of some orgasmic fit, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

Roy smiled and said as kindly as he could past his pride (which, coincidentally, had taken quite a thrashing, as well), "I didn't choose who I fell in love with, either . . ."

At these words, his father seemed to recover from his stupor, straightening in his chair and turning a rather hideous shade of grey. "But son," he reasoned, as though he had completely forgotten that he had disowned said child not twenty minutes previous. It is a _sin_. It's condemned by God and the chu—"

"So is murdering people," Roy cut in smoothly as he looked away. "But that didn't stop either of us. Quite frankly, Father, I'd rather screw a guy that be forced to shoot another innocent person in the face." The man seemed to undergo a very minor akinetic epileptic fit at the words, but held his tongue as the younger man continued. "Besides . . . what's one more sin to the sinner?"

The Major General looked as though, had not been so terrified of what his own wife would do to him had he attempted it, he wished to backhand his son right then and there; however, that fear grossly outweighed his temper . . . and the man quickly stayed his hands. He clenched his meaty fists against the table, nails digging fine rivulets into the already scarred wood, and averted his cobalt eyes back to his own glass.

"Father . . ." Roy stated softly, bringing his ebony eyes back to rest on the Major General. "There is _so_ much that I have done wrong in my life. No amount of praying could possibly fix it. If . . . if there is something after death . . . then, there is no doubt in my mind where I'm going. So . . . I'm begging you . . . let me have this piece of heaven."

And after that, there were no more words.

What else could possibly be said? The two men simply gazed at each other for a short time, black deadlocked with blue, before the Major General let out a long-suffering breath—sounding every bit as tired and old as Roy felt—stood . . . and gently patted his son on the shoulder. He then turned away from the table and slowly plodded over to the swinging kitchen door, exiting the room and leaving the colonel to his own devices. Roy knew that, despite how it may have looked, it wasn't a consent by any means—merely . . . an acceptance. A knowing that nothing better would come.

A truce.

* * *

If it was possible for one person to be more happy about seeing three visitors piling into a car and driving away, hands waving at him through the dark glass, Edward Elric didn't know about it. He grinned and stood tall, hand extended upwards in a jubilant wave goodbye.

Though the blonde admitted that he would miss Mai Yao and Tamalynn dearly, he also knew that, for now, he had had his fill of them. Too much of something, no matter how wonderful it seemed or how much one enjoyed it, was never a good thing.

He'd heard of colic.

Roy stood beside him, one hand shoved down into his jacket pocket, the other ushering his family out with a much more subtle wave than his lover's. A minuscule smirk touched his bruised face at the sight of Ed standing on the tips of his toes, waving his family off. "Gonna miss them?" he asked.

The blonde didn't look at him, but Roy heard the exaggerated huff he released. "Oh," exclaimed Edward suddenly, his hand not leaving the air and his eyes not leaving the car at is started up and began to pull away. "Did I tell you that I found out why they came home so early?"

"No," Roy admitted. "Though, I'm guessing that it's because Father found out about us somehow . . . Correct?"

"Yep," said the Fullmetal simply. He switched arms suddenly, sticking his left arm into the air to wave as the automail one became too heavy for his shoulder. "Tamalynn let it slip."

Roy let out a sigh as the car reached the end of the driveway, waiting to merge into the almost non-existent traffic. "Hm . . . I figured as much," he confessed. "That girl is too intrusive for her own good. Did she say _why_ she did it?"

"Eh," Edward shrugged. "Something about how we had to tell your father anyway and how she warned us that she'd do it if we didn't. Something like that . . . it was hard to tell, really—I was strangling her."

Roy smirked to himself and silently congratulated his lover, watching as the black car containing his departing family exited the driveway for a final time and disappeared down the street. Letting his waving hand drop down onto Edward's shoulder, the Flame gave it a gentle squeeze and sighed. "Come on. Let's go to bed."

The blonde let his own arm descend to his side, pursing his lips adorably and rolling his eyes up at the older alchemist. "Roy, it's the middle of the day," he pointed out.

At this comment, the colonel smiled wickedly and simply said, "Well, I'm not tired."

Ed gave his golden optics a spin, but said nothing as he turned and led Roy back into the house, closing the door behind him with a small smirk.

* * *

**Epilogue**

In the weeks to come, Ed found out several things that he hadn't known before.

One was that, if both the Flame and Fullmetal took the same week off from work, not only did people begin to talk . . . but Hawkeye got extraordinarily cranky and particularly trigger-happy.

Roy was lucky, the doctors said. The bullet had only grazed his arm.

Lucky nothing.

Hawkeye was just a damn good shot.

Another thing he discovered was that, even though he and Roy now told each other "I love you" on a daily basis, it didn't change much in their relationship. The love, though unspoken, had always been there . . .

And, after a bit of researching that had sprung from the depths of his inconceivably bored mind, Ed found out the real reason that Roy had decided to change his name. It didn't take very long sifting through baby name books at public library before he found the meaning behind both of the Flame's names.

Royce: 'Son of the King'

Roy: 'King'

Edward didn't doubt that his lover had known this when he had asked for a name change, and hadn't done it just because Roy sounded better.

The also found out just how _strange_ of a family he was ultimately getting involved with. Around two weeks after their departure, he and Roy both received a rather delightful letter from Mai Yao, inviting the two of them up for a visit to the main Mustang demesne for Christmas. She wrote how it would be so nice to have _all_ of her children there to celebrate the holidays and how Edward would thoroughly enjoy their extensive library and the stables.

The blonde was a bit confused about the stables part, until Roy recovered from his fit of giggles and explained that his mother had a very wry, but often lewd sense of humour.

Ed stared.

Then understood.

Then blushed.

And that court-martial, you may ask? It never came.

* * *

**That's it! Ring the bells and sound the alarms! I'm out of here! I hope to see and talk to y'all all pretty soon at my Mpreg. It'll be called '_Levitas Fragosus_' and will be up pretty soon, so watch out for it . . . **

**I love you all so much for sticking with me through this and for all of your wonderful reviews! Oh, speaking of which, review responses are below. I know that I already responded to some of you, but I figured that I'd do it again for the sheer heck of it. (grins)**

**Truthfully, there were just too many reviews last time and the chapter itself was so long—the thing would have been endless had I responded personally. Well, here y'all are:**

**Prozacfairy: **Yes indeed. It's Roy's family—how could you not expect a turbulent past there? Thanks for the review!

**inuyashabooklover5188** (laughs) Calm down, honey—it'll be okay! No, I don't think that anyone does the steak thing anymore either, but you have to remember that this was back in the early 1900s (the series ends in 1921) . . . so they would still do that at that time. Thank you! I'm glad you found it so enjoyable!

(nods) A lot of people were concerned about those two following the M.G. They were like, "Why did they go with him!" . . . I hope that last chapter sufficiently explained that they were going after him, not with him . . .

I think I explained in the message I sent you, but if I didn't then, "_Xi dai no!_" means "I will not!" and "_Xu dai vernai xus takasa, Gerald!_" means "You will talk to your son, Gerald!" (grins) Hope that helps!

And, again, I must say that last chapter was _not_ my best work . . . I probably meant to put that, but was tired and sick . . . so, yeah . . . Sorry.

Ah! A poke! No! Not the dreaded poke of doom! (cough) Anyhoo . . . hope you liked the last chapter! Thanks for the review!

**J-chan Hagane No Chibisan** You know why it has to end, silly. Hope you weren't late for school and thanks for the review!

**Edo-kun's Angel:** (laughs) Hope you liked the ending! Thanks for the review! (stomach growls) Hm . . . I'm so hungry . . . Hey! A cookie! (tackles you)

**Sakuranbo Nayamu** (laughs) Um . . . thanks?

**littlefiction:** Thank you!

**Sirokage:** Thanks!

**death lies2:** (laughs) Yeah, he kinda did . . . Thanks for liking it and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for the review!

**Different Child:** I'll be back at my apartment (and able to IM you) in a few days! Right now, I'm . . . well, actually right now this very second, I'm typing. But right now, in general, I'm helping my dad paint the kitchen. It's an ongoing project that only happens when I'm home from college and my dad is in from offshore. (sigh)

Thanks for the review!

**imyourvillian:** Glad you liked it! The only thing I liked about that chapter was the RoyEd scene. I thought it turned out well . . . the rest, however . . . eh.

Anyway, I'm glad that you liked it and I hope that this was a suitable ending. Thanks for the review!

**xX Konoha Ninja Xx** (laughs) Again, I'm sorry that I almost killed you with the Greek mythology reference. Did you catch the one this chapter?

Thanks for the review!

**Aemi-Kaishima** (laughs) Sorry. Again, I won't continue, for I have no where else to take it . . . But I do hope that you check out the Mpreg! Hope you liked this chapter!

Thanks for the review!

**new moongirl:** (laughs) _Extremely_ soon, as it turns out. Thanks for the review!

**Pickles: **(laughs) That's interesting . . . and slightly frightening. I have a reoccurring dream where I'm being chased through this dilapidated, black-and-white city by this mother and two sons on bikes. There's this grizzled old blacksmith and he tells me that the only way to escape them is to jump the bayou (that's a small, dirty river in Louisiana) into the coloured world. So I jump the swirling vortex on my little bike and land on the roof of a hospital where my friend is having her baby . . .

I really need to get that psychoanalyzed by someone.

Thanks for the review!

**anmbcuconnfan** Yay! A fellow broke college student! Nice to meet you! Glad you liked that chapter—it really seemed to be people's favourite . . .

I'm doing an Mpreg next (see title above). The first chapter will be out in a few weeks or so . . . I hope to see you there! (smiles)

Thanks for the review!

**Alexandria AKA Shippo:** (laughs) Thanks, I guess.

**Yumiko Yoshihana:** Wow. Glad you love it!

(laughs hysterically) He started reading it? Boy, I'm glad it wasn't the lemon chapter! (laughs) I _loved_ the fact that you went into 'rabid fangirl' mode—it makes me happy!

Thanks for the review and I hope to see you at my Mpreg later on! Bye!

**Well . . . that's it! Bye guys! Bye! (waves)**


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